Trip and the Terrific TARDIS
by LadyRainbow
Summary: Trip and Malcolm find themselves with a certain blue police box. They end up bouncing all over many different time zones in their quest to return it to its rightful owner. Crossover with DW and Torchwood, but occurring mostly in the Star Trek Enterprise Universe. Cameos from Classic Who, New Who, Star Trek Enterprise. Written before DW Series 7 Please R&R, would love reviews. Thx.
1. Present and Future Tense

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue. _Star Trek: Enterprise_ is owned by CBS/Paramount._Doctor Who_ and _Torchwood_ are owned by RTD and the BBC. Just borrowing the characters for a little while, guys.

Crossover with DW and _Torchwood_.

Thanks to the Fiction Workshop Group at TDE for the many helpful suggestions and ideas! It made this chapter so much better!

Timeline Note: _Star Trek Enterprise _Beginning of Season 5.

_Doctor Who_: Season 4 (Tenth Doctor and Donna Noble). Though we will be all over the map as far as times go. It's a TARDIS, go figure.

Spoilers for this Chapter: ENT "Future Tense"

January 1, 2156

_Enterprise_ NX-01

0330 hours, Cargo Bay Two

Commander Trip Tucker stared at the object standing in the middle of Cargo Bay Two. The blue paint gleamed under the Cargo Bay lights and the small double windows were in perfect condition. The rectangular box showed no signs of wear and tear, despite the fact _Enterprise_ had found it floating in space. He rapped his knuckles on the small white sign on the door. Yup, definitely wood. A wooden box drifting through space.

Where did it come from, and why was it here?

He took another sip of the coffee in his mug and grimaced at the taste. Unfortunately, the Mess Hall was still recovering from the New Year's Party, and Crewman Cunningham hadn't programmed the coffee dispenser yet. Trip had to make do with the dregs at the bottom of the pot. A drunken Anna Hess adorned his mug with brightly colored ribbons and a shiny tag that proclaimed, "Happy New Year 2156."

Trip regarded his mug with a sour look. If this was how his year was starting out, he really didn't want to know what was in store for him for the rest of it.

He heard the hiss of the Cargo Bay doors and spoke without turning around, "About damn time you got here, Cap'n-"

A familiar British-accented voice burst out in surprise, "What is that doing here?"

He winced and rubbed his temples. _Knew I should've cut back on the bourbon._Aloud, he said, "Not so loud, Malcolm! My head's ringin' like a church bell."

Lieutenant Malcolm Reed stared at the box, his jaw agape. It wasn't often that Trip saw the Armory Officer at a loss for words. He walked around the strange object, the sharp gray-blue eyes noting every detail.

"I'm in some sort of nightmare from too many pints of Guinness. I am not in Cargo Bay Two with Commander Tucker, staring at a bloody call box..."

Trip's smirk grew larger as he reached over and pinched Malcolm on the arm.

"Bollocks!" Malcolm exploded.

"Just checkin'. You're not dreamin' this, and we're both here starin' at a—what?

"It's an old-fashioned police box." Malcolm pointed at the sign above the door, white letters on a black background that said _POLICE Public Call BOX. _Trip kicked himself for not noticing it earlier. "My mother dragged me to museums in London when I was a child and they had similar ones on display."

Trip's bourbon-soaked, coffee-addled brain tried to translate British English to American Southern-speak. "A what?"

"Boxes like this used to be on every British street corner, Commander." Malcolm slowly walked around it again, this time with a scanner in his hand. He shook his head at the readings, then continued, "If a person needed assistance, he or she could call for help from a call box like this one. Some of the busier ones were actually manned by a policeman."

Trip chuckled. "You mean it's a phone booth?"

Malcolm sighed and a slight smile quirked on his lips, despite a visible effort to stifle it. "Yes, a phone booth."

"What's a policeman's station doin' floatin' in the middle of space?"

Malcolm sighed again. "I have no unearthly idea."

Trip didn't say anything as he watched Malcolm finished his scans. He deliberately took another sip of the awful coffee, then said in a casual manner, "I saw you leave the New Year's party with Hoshi earlier."

Malcolm shrugged, but kept his eyes on the tiny screen. "I walked her to her cabin, like a gentleman should."

"Uh-huh," Trip grunted. If he hadn't been so tired, he might have teased Malcolm more, but it was late, and Trip wanted to get back to his comfortable bunk.

"That's odd."

He sighed at the tone in Malcolm's voice. It was going to be a long night. Morning. Whatever. "What's odd?"

"I'm getting some strange readings. The mass is all wrong, and there's some sort of energy signature I don't recognize." He turned the scanner so Trip could see it.

Trip's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "What the hell-?"

"Exactly."

Trip muttered something under his breath and passed his own scanner over it again. "I'm getting the same readings you are. This doesn't make any sense." He glanced over at his best friend. "You know what this reminds me of?"

Malcolm raised an eyebrow, Vulcan-style. "That ship from the future we picked up last year? The one that was bigger on the inside-"

"-than it looked like on the outside?" Trip rolled his eyes. "Am I the only one with the sense of deja vu?"

Malcolm smirked. "Now that you mention it, no. And I hope we're not stuck in some sort of time loop and not aware of it."

"We're not talking about dinosaurs and what era we'd like to visit if we could," Trip pointed out. He shook his head again as he glanced at his readings again. "You guys go back to using these things in the future?"

Malcolm sighed and shook his head. "Perhaps. We're British. We take our traditions seriously."

"Yeah, sure." Trip tried to open the door, but it refused to budge. "I think it's locked tight. Do these things have keys?"

"They're supposed to. Perhaps it's still floating out in space?"

"Yeah, it probably fell out of the lock when Travis was reeling it in with the grappler." Trip winced and shook his head. "What I'd give for a tractor beam."

"Perhaps the Vulcans might lend you one if you asked nicely?"

"No way. Even if I asked nicely." Trip rapped the wooden door again with his knuckles. "There's got to be some sort of mechanism that opens it." He slid his hands on the wooden door and felt around, but there seemed no way to get it open, short of breaking the windows, and he didn't want to do that.

"I'll see if there's another way inside,"Malcolm said, his voice muffled as he walked behind the box. Together, the two of them tried to open the doors or the double windows set in the top panels, but to no avail.

"Any luck?"

"No, and I don't want to use a phase pistol on it. That would be destroying a piece of valuable history."

"You think someone could've used this thing as some sort of escape pod?" Trip huffed as he tried to jimmy the lock. "This thing's sealed pretty good...it could be space worthy."

"Perhaps, but it would make an odd escape pod. I'd be more likely to believe it was in the hold of an Earth Cargo Ship. There was some sort of hull breach and it got sucked out into space."

That suggestion brought Trip up short. "You know, that makes more sense. Maybe there's an Boomer ship that's in trouble somewhere. We oughta let the Bridge know it's a possibility."

Malcolm nodded and headed toward the comm speaker on the far side of the Cargo Bay. Trip glared at the double doors of the police box. _Maybe I should just wave my hands and say 'abracadabra', _he thought, _or snap my fingers. _He shrugged and murmured the magic words, and when that didn't work, he settled for snapping his fingers.

The door popped open a crack as soon as he did so. Malcolm halted abruptly at the sound, then made his way back to Trip's side. Both men stared at it, mouths agape.

"How'd you do that?" Malcolm demanded.

"I dunno. I thought about sayin' abracadabra' and it didn't work, then I thought about snappin' my fingers and-" Trip shrugged. "Obviously, it responds to certain gestures."

"Or it probably likes you."

Trip bristled at the words. "It's a _phone booth_, Malcolm-"

"A _call box."_

"_-_it's not like it's sentient, for cryin' out loud. I bet it's rigged with some sort of motion sensor." Trip shrugged and added, "Okay, one quick look, and then we can leave it for tomorrow. Or later. Whatever the hell the time is." He pushed the door open all the way and...

...before he could react, a force propelled him inside what should have been a tiny space. Instead, he found himself face-down on a smooth floor, the wind knocked out of him. There was another muffled 'ooof' next to him, then the door slammed shut behind him. He heard a tirade of English curses and knew that Malcolm had been pulled inside too.

"Malcolm?"

"The bloody door's stuck again! We're trapped inside!"

Trip carefully sat up and gaped at the cavernous space. _Cavernous _was definitely the word for it; thisroom washuge. The walls curved upward into a dome-shape, held up by tree-like support struts that looked more like pieces of art. Trip stared at the control platform in disbelief. The blown-glass column at its center glowed green and pulsed like the warp core on _Enterprise._

A strange warmth radiated from the floor. Not that it was cold, really, but Trip felt something just at the edge of his consciousness. It lulled him into a sense of calm, despite his situation.

"Commander? You all right?"

Trip blinked in response. "Yeah, I'm okay. This place is weird."

"Obviously bigger on the inside than on the outside, just like that other future ship," Malcolm dryly commented, "not to mention a bit more...eclectic."

"No kiddin'." Trip got to his feet and cautiously approached saucer-shaped base of column. He looked down at the jumble of mismatched buttons and levers that adorned it. Wires crisscrossed every inch of the panels. It was an engineer's nightmare.

Malcolm frowned as his eyes swept the room. "One way out, through the locked doors. There's a spiral staircase on your far side, Commander."

"Another level? This place is bigger than we thought." Trip shook his head at the mess of wires in front of him. "I'm gonna need some sort of manual to figure this out. I couldn't even begin to tell you what half of these things do, and if I try to find the door control, I'm afraid I'll break something or blow us up."

"God forbid. I wouldn't want to be in here if it does." Malcolm circled the platform counter-clockwise, noting every detail of this strange ship.

Trip carefully surveyed the hodgepodge of parts: old typewriter keys, a computer screen more than a hundred and fifty years out of date, and was that an alarm bell? A gearshift from a car? The buttons from a cargo elevator? Parts from a streetlamp,a voltmeter, a telegraph and a _rotary phone?_

Malcolm uncannily echoed his thoughts. He pointed at a bucket seat at one side of the control column, obviously where the pilot was supposed to sit. "This whole thing is a kluge job."

"Yeah, who the hell designed this thing? It looks like someone cannibalized parts from wherever they could and somehow managed to make it all work." Trip shook his head. "I gotta admit, it isn't elegant, but it looks like it's holdin' together. Whatever source of energy this thing uses is self-contained, and it's intact."

Malcolm bit his lip, then asked "If this is a spaceship, where's the pilot?"

"Maybe he or she's on the upper level. Let's go find whomever this ship belongs to."

At Trip's words, the energy column thrummed with power and the walls trembled in its wake. Trip lost his hold, but grabbed the railing. Malcolm did the same on the other side. There was an ear-splitting grinding sound, as if someone had forgotten to take off the brakes.

"What'd I say?" Trip yelled over the din. He gripped the nearest edge of the console and pulled himself up to the computer screen. Information flashed faster than he could process it, but a number counter next to it changed faster, much faster.

And it was running _backwards._


	2. The Maze of Impossible Rooms

Trip and Malcolm explore what's inside the Tardis and find more questions than answers.

Notes to DW/Torchwood newbies: Captain Jack Harkness is the leader of Torchwood Three and a friend of the Doctor's. He was one of the Ninth and Tenth's Doctor's companions for a little while. Trip and Malcolm assume he's the TARDIS's owner, since they don't know him. You'll actually see Jack later.

The Chameleon Circuit is the device that's supposed to hide the TARDIS by making it look like something more appropriate to the time it's landed in. Problem is, it got stuck, and so the TARDIS is stuck in the form of the 60's Police Box.

Can you identify the various Doctors whose clothes are in the wardrobe? And Malcolm finds the infamous wandering swimming pool mentioned in DW "The Eleventh Hour".

Spoilers: ENT "Dead Stop", "United", "Twilight", "In A Mirror Darkly, I" Doctor Who "The Eleventh Hour" "Victory of the Daleks."

* * *

**Present time: infinity (∞) within the Tardis**

The walls stopped shuddering, but Trip still hung onto the railing with white-knuckled intensity. He felt the vibrations even out into a steady, comforting hum. After he saw the ceiling hadn't collapsed on him, he pried his fingers loose from the support. The adrenaline still coursed through his body and pushed the exhaustion at bay...for the moment.

"You all right, Malcolm?"

"I'm...fine. Are you?"

"Yeah. Nothing broken, just a few bumps and bruises from bein' thrown around a little. I've got a bad feelin' about this-"

Trip staggered back to the control console and glanced over the instruments. That was no help; without any sense of what any of the buttons and switches were for, he was at a loss. He moved around to the pilot's seat on the far side of the console. "Malcolm, I think we're movin'."

"We can't be moving; we're in the middle of the Cargo Bay, remember?" Malcolm went to the door and peered out the double windows. "My God-"

Trip settled into the seat with a creak and hoped he could steer this thing. "Now what?"

A secondary screen came to life and Trip stared at the brilliant colors that swirled on it. It reminded him of _Enterprise_'s warp field, and unfamiliar hieroglyphs appeared next to certain parts of the screen. "Status screen," he muttered under his breath, "but I can't make heads or tails out of it. I wish Hoshi were here."

Malcolm glanced over his shoulder with an aggravated expression. "Why don't we just wish this was some sort of alcohol-induced nightmare?"

"I checked that, remember? You're as awake as I am." Trip tried several buttons, to no avail. "If we can find a communication transmitter, maybe we can send a distress signal to _Enterprise. _I'm sure the ship's sensors picked up when this...call box started to power up. I bet the Cap'n's scramblin' to find us right now."

Malcolm nodded and came around to the other side of the console. He spotted the old-fashioned rotary phone and picked up the receiver. "I think I've found the comm line," he said with a smirk. "Now we've got to figure out how to call Hoshi."

"Dunno about you, but I left my comm chit at home," Trip joked. "Maybe just...put in random numbers and see where it gets you?"

He rolled his eyes and muttered, "I can't believe I'm about to prank call the universe." Nevertheless, he touched the numbers, and when that had no effect, tried to figure out how the thing worked. After a few moments, he managed to dial several numbers in succession.

"Anythin'?"

"Hold on, it's ringing." Malcolm drummed his fingers on the console as the connection went through. "Ah...hello? Yes, we have a bit of a situation and we need assistance...what? No, I'm not a doctor...who? Unfortunately, no, sir, I don't know to whom you're referring...I'll tell him whenever I see him. Yes, sir. Good-bye, sir."

Trip raised his eyebrows at Malcolm's stunned expression. "I take it that wasn't Hoshi."

"No. If I hadn't known any better-"

"Who'd you call?"'

"That sounded like Winston Churchill. He was rather put out at having his supper interrupted."

Trip shook his head. "Okay, we're both completely nuts. We're flyin' through space in a box and you got Churchill pissed off at you for prank callin' him in the middle of dinner. You're right...this is a nightmare."

Malcolm shook his head and gave the rotary phone a distrustful look. "I'm afraid if I try again I might get Nelson. Or Margaret Thatcher. Or Sir Patrick Stewart."

"I thought Nelson was one of your heroes, and you've always wanted to go back and see the Battle of Trafalgar. And they didn't even have rotaries back then."

"Actually, the Spanish Armada, 1588, but Trafalgar would be a wonder to see too. And yes, I'm aware Nelson never had a telephone, but I'm not about to discount anything at this point."

Trip couldn't help but chuckle. "I don't blame you for bein' paranoid about the phone." He immediately sobered as he took stock of their strange situation. "Okay, we've been hijacked in an unidentified ship, can't call for help and headed for parts unknown. This sounds familiar."

"The Romulan drone ship. Deja vu again. Perhaps if I can rig up some sort of explosive-" A current of green energy lashed out from the console and struck Malcolm on the hand. He yelled and stumbled several meters away from it.

"Malcolm! You all right?" Trip jumped out of the bucket seat and got to his side. "What happened?"

"Just a nasty shock." He grimaced and tried to shake the feeling back into his fingers. "Obviously, this ship has a sophisticated defense system. I mentioned explosives and it reacted."

"I'd be the same way if I overheard someone wanted to blow out one of my bulkheads," Trip pointed out. "Okay, so now you've pissed off Churchill and the ship. Great."

He sighed and glared at the console. "It appears we're going to have to wait for _Enterprise _to rescue us."

"Yeah." Trip glanced over at the spiral staircase at the far side of the room. "This ship's got a mind of its own, so I don't think we can alter our course. We might as well check out the rest of the ship and see if we can find out where it came from."

"And where the pilot is."

They climbed the staircase to the second level of the ship. It went on and on, with doors on both sides of the corridor. Around the corner were more doors leading into more rooms. Trip stared at the maze of halls and the sense of deja vu grew. "Bigger on the inside than the outside. Damn."

Malcolm opened another door and looked inside. "Ah. Here's the galley..."

"The kitchen? Like Chef's?"

"It's pretty homey, actually." Malcolm pushed the door wider so Trip could see. The kitchen cabinets stretched up the wall as far as the eye could see. He opened a few at random and smiled at the sight of plates, cups, pitchers, and glasses. He found silverware in the drawers and took them out. Malcolm searched the refrigerator and the pantry and made a surprised sound.

"What'd you find?" Trip asked him.

"I think the question is more of what didn'tI find," Malcolm corrected. "Look at this."

Trip blinked at the full shelves of the pantry. Cans of soup, jam, marmalade of all flavors, cookies, vegetables, fruit... it rivaled Chef's stash on the _Enterprise_. He glanced at the open fridge and saw a plate of country ham, already sliced, and an honest-to-god pecan pie. Next to it was a shepherd's pie, with a fluffy crust, a plate of Welsh rarebit, potatoes and gravy, and two bottles of Guinness.

More beer sat on the shelves inside the door, but a note was taped directly above them: RESERVED FOR CAPT. JACK HARKNESS.

"Captain Harkness? The commanding officer?" Malcolm mused. "This ship does have a crew, but where are they?"

He shook his head and frowned. "You know...the ham, the pecan pie, the shepherd's pie, the Guinness..."

"Funny how we found food that we like in the refrigerator," Malcolm finished.

"You aren't thinkin' about that automated space station, are you?"

"It materialized that plate of catfish for you. That's what Captain Archer told me."

"That's different. I asked for that, and considerin' this is an English police box, I'm not surprised this Harkness guy had Guinness and a shepherd's pie in the fridge."

"True. Don't tell me you're still hungry."

He shook his head. "After Chef's spread at the New Year's bash? No, but I could sure as hell use a cup of decent coffee. I'm exhausted." Trip blinked as he spotted familiar appliances at the back of one of the counters. "I'll be damned. An honest-to-God coffeepot, and it looks like some sorta teapot next to it?"

"I swear, they weren't on the counter the last time I checked, but..." Malcolm shrugged and followed Trip into the kitchen. They rummaged through the other cabinets and found a bag of ground Jamaican coffee. The next cabinet held three entire shelves filled with boxes of flavored tea, and two more with bags of loose-leafed tea. Malcolm smiled for the first time since they had been shanghaied by this strange box.

"Yeah, they're British," muttered Trip, but he grinned as he did it.

"Of course they'd know how to brew a proper cuppa, Commander."

Within moments, both men settled with their beverage of choice and a plan of action. Malcolm gently blew on his steaming cup of English Breakfast, then sipped it with a small smile. "We should see if we can find the crew's living quarters. We need to know more these people and how they control their ship."

"Good idea." Trip collected his mug and searched around for a dishwasher; again, it was conveniently tucked into a corner, and he could have sworn it wasn't there before. "Okay. You take one side of the corridor, I'll take the other. Meet back in the control room in an hour."

After leaving the kitchen, Trip looked at the line of nearly identical-looking doors. He shrugged and opened the nearest one. To his surprise, he saw the remains of electronic devices scattered on the floor, piled high on the shelves, and spread out on the large wooden desk. Diagrams and blueprints had been taped to the walls with no rhyme or reason. A huge toolbox dominated one corner, its drawers gaping open, as if someone had been searching for a certain tool.

He carefully made his way around the piles on the floor. He counted five unfinished projects in the far corner, another twelve on the shelves and two on the desk. Trip ran his fingers on an old-fashioned sheet of drafting paper showing a complicated maze of circuitry. He narrowed his eyes at the symbols as he tried to decipher its meaning. A whole section of the diagram was missing, the pencil marks stopping abruptly at nothing.

"Chameleon circuit," he murmured to himself. "What the hell's that?"

Whoever worked in this room knew more about technology than he did. It piqued Trip's interest in meeting the engineer of this ship. He grinned and thought, _Maybe we can talk shop, find out about what kinda stuff he knows._

The next several rooms were empty, then Trip stumbled into a great walk-in closet. He gaped at the rows upon rows of clothes hanging neatly within it. Some of the garishly colored costumes put his own tropical t-shirts to shame. One in particular was a clash of stripes and plaids, and outlined in question marks. Trip winced and left that one alone.

Velvet smoking jackets in red and blue, frilly waistcoats, a cream-colored Panama hat, an impossibly long, multicolored knitted scarf, a leather jacket, an umbrella with the same question mark motif. A double-breasted jacket with a withered stalk of celery pinned on the collar. Neat pinstriped suits and matching ties, boots, and strangely enough, many pairs of red athletic shoes. Whoever owned this was definitely a clotheshorse.

And to his utter shock, way in the back, was a set of very familiar uniforms. Trip pulled out a blue jumpsuit, then a similar one in desert khaki. One had an operations red stripe and three pips of a commander, the other had a gold command stripe and the four pips of a captain. Trip recognized the formal uniform of an admiral still hanging on the closet, alongside a full MACO uniform with the gold leaf of a major.

He frowned at the captain's uniform and reached out, brushing his fingers against the pips. He was an engineer; he wasn't interested in commanding his own ship, but unfamiliar emotions surged through him. Bittersweet pride, regret, anger, bitterness...

Trip jerked his fingers away as if they'd been burned. He stared at the uniforms in shock. "What are these doing here? I gotta tell Malcolm..."

He turned and went back into the corridor. A second later, he heard a bellow of indignant curses followed by a massive amount of splashing. Trip took off in the direction of the sound. Two halls and several corners later, he saw a door at the end of the corridor, partially open. Trip sprinted the distance separating them, barreled through the entrance...

...then abruptly he was flailing through empty air before hitting water. He managed to swim to the surface, spitting out warm water and heaving big lungfuls of air. Trip glanced around him to see Malcolm nearby, treading water, and madder than a wet hen.

"Who the bloody hell puts a bloody swimming pool in a bloody _library_?!" Malcolm yelled. He thrashed about, eyes wide and skin paler than cream. If Trip hadn't known better, he would have said Malcolm was in a complete panic.

"Crap. _Breathe, _Malcolm!" He swam over to his friend's side. "We're okay! We aren't gonna drown!"

Malcolm seemed to regain his composure enough to swim to the edge of the pool and pulled himself up, dripping and shivering in the cool air. Trip followed him, breathing heavily in exertion. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted several fluffy towels and robes. He reached out, grabbed them and handed a towel and a robe to Malcolm.

"Thanks," Malcolm grunted and began drying his hair.

Trip frowned in concern. "You okay?"

"I'm fine. Just soaked to the skin." His accent was harsh and clipped. "I can't believe they'd put a pool in the library. That's just...bloody daft."

"We're in a _library_?" Trip craned his neck to see the shelves of books that extended as far as the eye could see. Miraculously, nothing was wet. "Damn. I'd hate to see what would happen if the gravity cut off in here. Everything would get soaked."

"It's a bad idea. I can't believe we were floundering in a swimming pool in the middle of a library."

"Maybe the ship's still pissed at you."

Malcolm glared up at the ceiling and muttered, "You've made your point. My apologies and I promise I won't blow out one of your bulkheads even if I might be tempted."

Trip resisted a grin, despite their situation. "Don't push your luck, Malcolm."

"We're going to have to find dry clothes."

Trip jerked his head in the direction of the door. "I found the walk-in closet. You're not gonna believe what kind of stuff's in there. I even found some Enterprise uniforms way in the back, plus an admiral's get-up and a MACO uniform."

Malcolm stared at him. "You're serious?"

"Yeah. The mystery gets even stranger. C'mon, before we both catch cold."

It took some doing to find clothing that fit among the racks and shelves. Malcolm shook his head at the frilly, Musketeer-like clothing and a skin-tight leather outfit. He paused at the MACO uniform and gazed at it for a moment. When he took it off the rack, Trip noticed it immediately.

"It's different from what our MACOs wear. It's...darker, somehow."

"Definitely not from our MACOs," Malcolm agreed, pointing at the skull logo patch at the shoulder. Their regular MACOs had a shark for their logo. There were no other identifying marks as to the owner, but Trip's expert eye saw that it was for someone of Malcolm's height and build. Malcolm shook his head again and hung it back up on the rack.

Trip finally found a plaid shirt and a pair of jeans, socks and boots, while Malcolm selected a white T-shirt and a pair of slacks. By the time the two were dressed, Trip felt a tremor through the floor. He looked up and saw that Malcolm had felt it too. Without another word, they backtracked their way through the winding corridors to the staircase, and the control room on the first floor.

The engines built up from a low purr to a roar and the sound of squealing mechanical parts. Trip grabbed the edge of the console as the room began shaking again. His eyes passed over the hodgepodge of devices until he saw a pair of blue buttons. He reached over and pressed both of them, and immediately, the obnoxious grinding noise ceased. With a jolt, the ship jerked once, then was still.

"I think we've landed," Malcolm said hoarsely.

Trip made his way down the walkway on shaky legs to the door. He squinted out the set of double windows. Where were they?

Malcolm appeared on his far side and stared out at the view. "Where in God's name are we?" he echoed.

"Sand dunes, wind...We're in a desert in the middle of the night," Trip said. "Doesn't look familiar-"

He looked again, and suddenly a face popped in front of a window. A huge face resembling a teddy bear, with six-inch fangs. Trip swore and jumped back in surprise as one of the doors popped open. The animal had been clinging to the frame of one of the windows; it lost its hold as the doors opened and tumbled headlong into Trip's lap. It growled and clung to his shirt.

"Hey, watch the claws, buddy!" Trip stared at the cuddly thing attached to him. "Wait-"

"You know what that is?"

"It's a _sehlat_. T'Pol told me she had one of these as a pet when she was a kid." Trip looked out into the wasteland outside the door. "We're on Vulcan."


	3. A Girl and Her Sehlat

Trip and Malcolm set out to return the sehlat to its rightful owner, but there are unknown dangers on Vulcan's Forge, like _le-matya_s. A picture of one of those is shown on Memory Alpha under its entry.

Spoilers ENT: "Desert Crossing", "Home". DW: "The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances" (Ninth Doctor/Rose, this is the episode where Captain Jack Harkness is introduced)

PS: I believe the TARDIS is definitely alive and has a mind of its own. This was written long before "The Doctor's Wife"...I LOVED that episode. If you want to imagine it's Idris helping the guys, go ahead.

And yeah, that's a sonic screwdriver.

**Relative time to Enterprise NX-01 (2156):**

**2096, Vulcan**

**(-68 years)**

Trip glanced down at the sehlat in his lap. When T'Pol had described her pet to him, she made it sound like a big yellow Labrador Retriever. Plenty of fur, a huge, wet nose and large paws. This was bigger than a yellow Lab. Hell, it was more like a good-sized Saint Bernard, with a ursine face and long, bushy tail. Trip had the sinking feeling that this sehlat wasn't even half-grown.

How big would it be when it was_ full-grown_?No wonder T'Pol had claimed she was never late for her sehlat's dinner. If you were late, you were likely to _be_ its dinner!

"It's just a baby," he murmured.

Malcolm gaped at it, then whispered, "Good God! When it's an adult-"

"Yeah." The sehlat blinked and looked at him with large brown eyes, then snuggled deeper into his chest. It yawned and flashed six-inch long incisors. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't hold back an answering yawn. It had been a long day—or was it night? It was hard to tell in this police box.

"T'Pol had one of these as a child?"

"Yeah...the Vulcans domesticate 'em so they're as docile as a dog. They tend to be fiercely protective of whomever they get attached to. No wonder they make good guard dogs and babysitters. No one's gonna want to mess with 'em. _I_wouldn't."

"Well, _this_ one seems quite attached to you."

He rolled his eyes at Malcolm's words and shifted his weight under the massive bulk. "I guess it knows it's found someplace safe. Dunno about you, but I think I'm gonna hit the sack for a few hours."

He frowned, and Trip saw his sense of responsibility warring with his need for rest. "You're not going to go out and search for this sehlat's owner?"

Trip sighed and stifled another yawn. "I will, but I'm so tired I'd do a instant face-plant into a sand dune. Not to mention it's about sunrise, and the temperatures in the desert will soar faster than a nuclear furnace turned on high. Don't care much to get another sunburn."

Malcolm raised his eyebrows. "You'd know, wouldn't you."

"Being on the run on Zobral's planet wasn't a picnic, especially during the daytime." Trip waved a hand at the doors. "We can wait till late afternoon, when we still have light and it isn't so hot."

"Good idea. I'm sure we could find somewhere comfortable to sleep around here-" Malcolm frowned and indicated a nearby hallway with his chin. "Wait. I_know_ that wasn't here before."

Trip narrowed his eyes at the hallway and saw there were doors along one side of it. "You know, it seems this police box knows what we need when we need it. The coffee pot and the tea in the galley, the clothes closet...I bet those are sleeping quarters."

He was right. Three doors, all leading to comfortably furnished bedrooms. Trip carefully laid the sleeping sehlat on the bed and quickly explored the rest of the room. Private bathroom with shower, toilet and mirror, and a simple chest of drawers and nightstand near the bed. Malcolm's room was the mirror image of his; the third room was meant for a woman, if the cosmetics on the table were any indication.

"How convenient," Malcolm commented dryly.

"Convenient or not, I'm pretty damn glad of it." Trip didn't bother to hide the yawn this time. "I'll see you in a couple of hours, Malcolm."

"Sleep well, Trip."

He closed the door. The sehlat lay at the foot of the bed, sprawled on its back, pudgy limbs flung every which way, mouth open to show its teeth, but at least it wasn't snoring. He stifled a smile and gently moved the beast to make room for himself. Trip closed his eyes and was instantly asleep.

And began to dream...

* * *

"Mother, I have searched the courtyard and the surrounding area. There is no sign of him." The pitch was too high to be a woman's; it was probably of a young girl, perhaps eight or nine years old.

"Have you made inquiries among your peers? Surely one of them must have seen him." There was hint of strained impatience in the words.

"Sevuk, T'Lashi and Senek have all told me they have not seen Pok since this morning."

"You were sure he was in the courtyard as you left for school? Perhaps he slipped out to follow you and had gotten lost."

"Yes. I have trained Pok not to follow me unless I specifically call him. He would not disobey. Perhaps someone has abducted him-"

The woman's voice held little sympathy as she replied, "What would an adult want with him? If he wandered into the desert, he might have encountered a _le-matya_. Pok is hardly as old as you are; he might have run into misfortune."

"Mother-" The girl choked on her words. "I cannot-"

"I will inquire of the surrounding estates, my daughter. Try not to worry too much. If Pok is alive, he will make his way back to you. A sehlat is loyal until death."

Trip bristled at the coolness of the mother's words. Yes, they were truthful, but to dismiss the girl's concerns about her pet like that...and in such a condescending way! It reminded him of the one time Lizzie lost her cat during a summer storm. The Tuckers spent most of a day looking for Miss Dolly, until they found her stuck in a drainage ditch. Luckily, Miss Dolly was more shaken than hurt.

A familiar wave of warmth seeped into him, and washed away the righteous indignation. This time, he was running hand in hand with a young blonde woman, who proudly displayed a Union Jack flag on her shirt. She smiled at him, and again he was reminded of Lizzie, sweet and innocent, and she laughed with the pure delight of being alive. There was another man, wearing some sort heavy overcoat, with dark hair, blue eyes and a charming grin.

Their names floated at the edge of his consciousness. Rose. Jack. Was _this _the mysterious Captain Jack Harkness?

He felt a lump in his (leather jacket?) pocket and pulled it out with his free hand. It was some sort of cylindrical device, about the size of penlight. The top of the device glowed blue and hummed like one of _Enterprise_'s scanners. Trip could feel the condensed energy within the device, like a miniature sun, as it flowed through his fingertips, like it was part of him...

The engineer within him wanted to know how this thing worked, whatever it was. The name of it floated just within reach..._screwdriver? Nah, it doesn't _look _like a screwdriver, much less _act _like one..._

And suddenly, he was back in the desert, trudging under the desert sun, with the sehlat under one hand and the device in the other, and just beyond the next ridge of dunes was an adobe brick wall, with an iron gate. He could see the tiled stones of a courtyard beyond, and it looked vaguely familiar to him for some reason...

* * *

The device emitted a low purr that definitely didn't sound mechanical at all. Trip opened his eyes to find him nose to nose with the sehlat. It laid its two paws on his chest. For a moment, he was ten years old and his dog was waking him up from a sound sleep. Except now it looked like a huge, cuddly teddy bear, and purred like a kitten.

Trip carefully sat up and whispered, "Pok? That's your name, isn't it?" It purred contentedly as he reached over to scratch its ears. He grinned as it flipped over to expose its soft tummy and Trip gave it a soft pat. "Now I'm getting weird dreams that aren't really dreams. This is startin' to freak me out."

Pok stopped purring, inverted himself, and gave him a look that was unmistakably Vulcan. If the sehlat had eyebrows, Trip was sure it would be raising at least one of them at him. He shook his head and said, "C'mon, let's go find your mama, okay?"

He managed to get to the bathroom as best as he could with a sehlat clinging to his leg like a limpet. He opened the closet doors, to see a set of Vulcan-style desert robes hung neatly on the hangers. A pair of soft but sturdy boots sat on the floor. Trip put on the clothes the the boots and wasn't surprised to find they fit him perfectly.

He and Pok ran into Malcolm in the control room. The Armory Officer was dressed in similar robes. Trip recognized several items on the control panel: canteens, flares, Vulcan-style communicators, electric torches, trail mix...

"Always prepared, huh?"

Malcolm smiled and answered, "I am an Eagle Scout. Did you sleep well?"

"Out like a light. Pok here woke me up. I think he's eager to get back to his mistress."

"Pok?" Malcolm inclined his head at the sehlat, then turned and stared at Trip. "Don't tell me he told you his name."

"It's a long story." He paused, trying to figure out how to ask this question. Malcolm was a very private person and this qualified as _personal_. "Um...did you have any strange dreams while you were asleep?"

Malcolm shrugged. "Perhaps, but I don't usually remember my dreams when I awake."

"None of 'em?" It was Trip's turn to stare.

Malcolm shrugged again. "All I get is a general feeling, like unease or contentment. I must have slept pretty soundly because I haven't felt this refreshed in a while." He shook his head and changed the subject. "So, did your little friend tell you where he lives?"

"If a sehlat's anythin' like a dog, he should be able to find his way home. All we gotta do is make sure he gets there in one piece. There are a lot of nasty stuff in the desert."

"Agreed, which is why I made sure we each had one of these." Malcolm handed him a palm-sized dart gun. "Tranquilizer gun. Just for stun, not kill. There's a small Armory in this ship, but everything in it is meant for disablement."

Trip frowned thoughtfully. "Hm. Maybe Captain Harkness's crew doesn't believe in violence?"

"Apparently it doesn't preclude defending themselves, which is smart on Harkness's part. Even the ship can protect itself against those with harmful intentions."

"Like you found out." He couldn't help but smirk at the glare Malcolm gave him. "Okay, let's pack up and get going, while we still have a little light left."

* * *

It was two hours before sunset. The residual heat radiated from the ground and the outcrops of rocks. The dying glow of Epsilon Eridani still provided plenty of light to see by, although once that faded, the desert would be shrouded in dark shadows. Both men moved carefully through the sand, torches and dart guns in close hand. Pok sniffed the air, pawed at the ground, and continued its trek across the desert.

"Damn, either you bake during the day or freeze at night," Trip remarked. "No wonder no one goes wandering around the Forge."

"At least these robes are pretty insulated," Malcolm said. "I wouldn't spend all night out here, though."

"Yeah." He made a face as he shook a spider-like creature off his boot. He swore he felt other creepy crawlies trying to munch on his toes through the sturdy material. Trip hated bugs with a passion, and unfortunately, there were plenty in any desert in the universe. "Deserts rank up there with swamps and snowdrifts."

"At least it isn't the ocean."

"I can handle the ocean, as long as I'm not in the middle of a hurricane. We get plenty of those in Florida-" A high-pitch yowl echoed over the sand. "What the hell's that?"

Pok froze in his tracks, ears standing straight up on his head and hackles raised. He sniffed the air with wide eyes. Trip froze in place, his grip tightening on the tranquilizer gun. He saw Malcolm had done the same, mere meters away.

Trip only saw a blur out of the corner of his eye. A large shadow streaked between him and Malcolm, too fast for him to really react to. Pok knocked the shadow sideways as Malcolm dropped to the ground and fired his tranquilizer gun at the same time. Pok dug his claws into the attacker's neck as it thrashed around on the sand, limbs twitching in panic.

Trip caught a good look at the creature: a green-and-gold wolf, with three-toed paws and a long tail. It raised one of those paws to slice into Pok's back; Trip fired his own tranquilizer gun without thinking. The dart pierced the center of that paw, jerking it back with an audible snap. The wolf creature finally went limp, its breath rattling in its throat.

Pok growled and gave the thing a vicious shake. Trip put a hand on his flank and murmured "Easy, boy, I think you've got it. Malcolm, you okay?"

"I'm not hurt, but the wolf's dead," Malcolm said, his voice quietly grim. His dart was buried in the animal's left side, and Trip's dart in the right forepaw, but its head hung limply on the sand. "Pok snapped its neck."

Trip whistled low and glanced sideways at Pok, who still quivered with rage. "You saved our lives, Pok." He remembered a Vulcan expression T'Pol had taught him. "_Shaya tonat."_

Pok blinked slowly, then finally relaxed. He nudged Trip's hand with his nose. Trip patted him one more time, began to get to his feet, then paused.

"Commander? Trip? Are you all right?"

"Let me make sure Pok's okay." He couldn't explain the sudden surge of fear that nearly overwhelmed him. Not for himself or Malcolm, but for the sehlat. Trip carefully patted down Pok's fur, checking for scrapes, cuts and bruises. He picked out strange burrs and dusted sand from Pok's skin, but to his relief, Pok didn't seem the worse for wear. The sehlat stayed still until he had finished his examination.

And that odd panic subsided as quickly as it had come. Trip took a deep breath and let it out. "You're good to go, Pok. We still gotta get you home before nightfall. You know which way to go?"

The sehlat craned his neck, sniffed the air to get his bearings, then trotted off at a good pace. Trip glanced at Malcolm, and scrambled to follow. He glanced over his shoulder at the dead wolf creature and suppressed a shudder at what could have happened.

* * *

They climbed a steep bank of sand dunes and paused at the ridge. Trip shaded his eyes from the glow of the sunset and stared at the group of dwellings below them. Tall adobe walls surrounded the houses, separated from each other by a network of cobblestone streets. Torches gave enough light to see people sitting in courtyards, bustling about for the evening meal.

"Raise your hood, Commander. We can't take the chance of being seen."

Trip nodded and did so. Two Humans and a sehlat coming out of the desert...that would be too complicated to explain to a bunch of Vulcans. With any luck, he and Malcolm would be mistaken for two regular Vulcans from afar._As long as none of them get too close to us, we can get away with it._

"That's home?" he asked Pok. The sehlat whined in response and looked over at him. "Hey, that's okay. That's where you belong, boy. That's where you need to go."

"Commander," Malcolm said. "Look over there, at the western gate, closest to us."

Trip narrowed his eyes. "I think I see...is that a little girl?" Her slender body was backlit by the light of the torches, which threw her features in shadow, but she pressed herself to the gate as if expecting a visitor. Pok yelped, then took off down the ridge at a frightening speed.

The girl gasped, then fumbled at the gate control. It slid open, then she burst out of it as if she was shot out of a cannon. The other Vulcans in the courtyard turned their heads at the commotion, and a woman followed the girl out the gate. Pok leaped into the girl's arms, knocking her back onto the sand. She clutched his head to her chest and held him close. The woman reached her daughter's side and helped her up to a sitting position, with Pok in her lap.

"A girl and her sehlat," Trip murmured as he grinned at Malcolm.

"They belong together," Malcolm murmured. "I think we're successful, Commander."

"Yeah. We're done here." He started as the girl raised her head to look at them. Those amber-gold eyes, the long, braided blonde-brown hair...Trip blinked in surprise. The air seemed to congeal in his lungs and he couldn't breathe.

"They've spotted us, Commander. I think-"

"All they see are a pair of Vulcans in their robes, Malcolm." Even as he said it, he knew the girl saw through their deception. Her mouth moved in a slight smile and she nodded at them.

Her mother straightened up and raised her hand in the Vulcan salute. Trip raised his hand and returned it as best as he could and out of the corner of his eye, saw Malcolm do the same with a lot less success. He hoped the mother couldn't see their attempts at it.

"Let's get the hell out of here," Trip murmured. He turned and carefully half-walked, half-slid down the sandy ridge. Malcolm quickly scrambled to keep up with him.

"Commander! Trip! Bloody hell, wait!" Malcolm reached over and put a hand on Trip's arm. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"I dunno, it's just that-" He shook his head. "That girl, she looked familiar. And her mom-"

Malcolm stared at him for several moments before letting go of his arm. "That's not-it can't be. She's on _Enterprise_ and-"

"-her mom died last year. It's impossible." He looked up and the blue police box stood there, mere meters away from them. "And speakin' of_impossible_...didn't we leave that on the other side of the Forge? What's it doing here?"

Malcolm frowned at the police box. "Yes. Curious, isn't it?"

"There's somethin' else going on. I think it's time we found out just what it is." Trip strode across the sand and snapped his fingers. The door popped open just like before, and he entered the box. Malcolm followed and closed the door behind them.

"All right," Trip directly addressed the control console, and the pulsing green cylinder at its center. "You brought us to Vulcan to bring Pok back to her. He would have died from that wolf-thing if we hadn't been there with the tranquilizer guns. So we were there for a specific _purpose_, weren't we?"

The console hummed in response and Trip took that as an affirmative. "So we happened to be at the right place at the right time, weren't we?"

Another hum of agreement. Malcolm put a hand on the console and murmured, "We're moving again. It's taking us someplace else. I think we're due for another landing soon, but there's no indication of _where_ we'll end up."

"Or when." Trip made a mental calculation, based on what T'Pol had told him about her age. "I'd say she was about maybe eight or nine years old, so that'll put it..maybe...2096-ish?"

"You mean to tell me she's, what, thirty-three years older than you?"

Trip bristled and reminded him, "She's Vulcan. They age slower than we do." He regarded the time indicator on the console, which was flipping forwards, then backwards as if it couldn't make up its mind. "So this Captain Harkness and his crew-"

"They travel in time as well in space." Malcolm finished, his voice awed. "Which means that theoretically, we can go back to _Enterprise_ at the exact moment we left."

"Which means the Cap'n might not even be aware we're gone, much less _lookin'_for us." Trip frowned up at the glowing column. "And we can go to any point in time or space, past or future."

"Sir Issac Newton's spinning in his grave right now."

"And Stephen Hawking's laughin' at both him and Einstein."

Malcolm's mouth twitched in humor and he gazed at the bulkhead. "And if we find out how to pilot this thing, we can be more specific as to where and when we land."

Trip nodded and eyed the control panel. "If I can find some sorta owner's manual, then maybe we can quit jumping around the universe at random and get back to _Enterprise_. But until then-"

"-we're at the mercy of where this ship wants to take us."

"Yeah, it seems to have a mind of its own. I bet the next place we end up in, we've got to figure out what's wrong and fix it."

"Like we're being tested. And once we've finished the test, the box shows up to take us to our next destination." Malcolm murmured. "Perhaps once we've completed all the tests, it will take us back."

Trip sighed and settled into the bucket seat. "I'm not sure I like being dragged around against my will, Malcolm."

"Neither do I, but it seems we don't have much of a choice at this point." Malcolm nodded at him. "I'll help you look over the ship's systems. There _has_ to be some sort of way to control its flight."

Trip sighed and glanced over the mishmash of parts on the console. "I have a feelin' this is gonna take us a while."

* * *

The next 12 hours (according to Trip's internal clock) were relatively quiet. Both men methodically tested several buttons and levers individually and in concert, with mixed results. On the good side, they had accessed some of the information databank. Malcolm pointed at a picture on the screen.

_'Le-matya_," he said, as he tapped the picture of the wolf creature. "It's a predator in the Vulcan desert, and according to this, its venom is fatal to other living beings. It injects the poison through its claws, and its carried throughout the body through the circulatory and lymphatic systems. Not a quick or easy death at all."

Trip shivered. If he and Malcolm hadn't been there...the _le-matya_ would have killed Pok. The sehlat would have never returned home. T'Pol had only mentioned her sehlat's eating habits, but she'd never told him what eventually happened to Pok.

"That's why I had that urge to check him for cuts and scratches" he whispered. "I needed to make sure he was okay."

Malcolm rested his hip against the edge of the console. After a beat of silence, he said, "We saved him, Trip. He didn't die, and he came back to T'Pol and T'Les."

"Was he _supposed_ to die? Did we just change history?"

He frowned and shook his head. "Maybe, or we just corrected it."

"You know, this gives it a whole different spin on things." Trip looked up at the control column. "Who else do you know goes through space and time and tries to correct stuff that shouldn't happen?"

They looked at each other, then said it together: "Daniels."

Malcolm nodded, his eyes flashing, and said, "Perhaps it's time we try to find him and get some sort of explanation from him."


	4. Interlude in Infinity I: More Questions

Trip and Malcolm try to puzzle out the TARDIS's systems. They discover some of the ship's history and clues as to whom the TARDIS belongs to. (We know, but our heroes don't. Yet.) Trip finds out one of Malcolm's well-kept secrets regarding Hoshi. Later, they land in a very familiar place, but Trip finds that the ship has her own plans for Malcolm.

That plaque is really located under the floor of the control console of the TARDIS, with that exact inscription. "Authorised" is the British spelling of "authorized", and since that's the original spelling, I kept it that way.

Spoilers: ENT "Shockwave I/II", "Home", "Affliction/Divergence". Can you guess which of the Companions Trip sees in the vision from the TARDIS?

**Relative time: Infinity (∞) inside the TARDIS**

"Time travel's givin' me a damn headache," Trip muttered. The next morning (according to ship time), they tried to find out more about this mysterious box and how it worked. Trip was able to squeeze into the floorspace under the console as he traced the tangle of cables and wires. Once he found the path of one cable, he reached into his pocket with one hand and drew out a roll of colored electrical tape. Hours later, he marked every wire with a different color, so he knew where they all went.

"Okay, propulsion system, environmental, life-support...I think. I have no idea what these do, but I can leave 'em be for now. A couple of frayed wires should be easy to fix...I got the feelin' the problem isn't completely mechanical, is it?"

He felt a distinct sense of loss from the ship, one that was so strong that Trip grabbed onto a strut for support. "What is it?" he asked. "What's wrong?"

The images were grainy, like they had been taken by an old-style camera. Trip caught a glimpse of a dark-haired man with a lopsided grin and red sneakers, a blonde woman, another woman with dark skin, a third one with reddish-golden hair. Then one of a strongly-built man with an overcoat...

"Wait. I've seen some of these people before." Trip frowned as he searched his memory. "In those weird dreams...I remember the blonde...what was her name? Rose, wasn't it? Her name is Rose. And...Jack Harkness is that last image, isn't it? The captain."

The police box's mental voice became desolate. Trip reached over and patted the strut. "You miss your crew. It's okay. We're gonna find 'em, all right? But we can't do this alone. We're gonna need some help." With a final pat, he double-checked his work, then sighed in relief.

"All right," he murmured and raised his eyes to the floor of the control room above him. "It's a start. We'll find out what's botherin' you, girl, don't worry."

There was a surge of warm gratitude through the walls of the crawlspace that Trip felt on his skin like the heat of a summer's day. "You're welcome. By the way...we've got to find a name for you. I feel weird just calling you 'it', or 'the police box'."

The lights brightened a little and Trip spotted a small bronze plaque on a box. He crouched down and read aloud:

"**TARDIS, Time and Relative Dimension in Space, Build Site: Gallifrey Blackhole Shipyard, Type 40 Build Date: 1963, Authorised for use by qualified Time Lords only by the Shadow Proclamation, Misuse or Theft of any TARDIS will result in extreme penalties and possible exile".**

"TARDIS?" he murmured and looked up at the console above him. "Is that your name? 'Time and Relative Dimension in Space'. Cute." That confirmed his and Malcolm's suspicions of time travel. If he read this right, this place had been built at a place called Gallifrey, and it was built 193 years ago (assuming '1963' was relative to '2156').

Was it possible to go back to this Gallifrey and find Captain Harkness and his crew? He wondered if Harkness was some sort of Time Agent like Daniels. Obviously, Harkness wasn't part of of the same Time Faction, if he and his crew needed a ship like this and Daniels could pretty much appear at will.

Still, Daniels was their best bet in finding out why he and Malcolm had been whisked away in the TARDIS. Trying to locate Daniels was a different story altogether. It figured; Daniels showed up when you least expected him, but remained stubbornly silent when you really needed him.

The second part of the plaque really bothered him. If these so-called 'Time Lords' found this TARDIS machine with Trip and Malcolm in it..._misuse or theft of any TARDIS will result in extreme penalties and possible exile._

"Oh boy," Trip muttered. He climbed out of the trapdoor in the ceiling and popped his head out. "Malcolm, can you look something up in the info database?"

Malcolm tapped buttons on the console. "Did you find something down there?"

"The ship's commissioning plaque's under the control room floor. According to it, this ship's called a TARDIS, and she was built in a place called Gallifrey BlackHole Shipyards."

"That's a start." Malcolm input the information and they waited for the response. He raised an eyebrow at Trip and asked, "'She'?"

"Don't start, Malcolm. Ships are referred to 'she' and 'her'." Trip couldn't help but grin at the old joke. After all, it wasn't his fault that the TARDIS seemed attached to him. Though he felt a twinge of guilt as he looked at the sadness behind Malcolm's teasing. _It's not fair to him._

"She seems to be quite enamored with you. Why can't I be liked by strange time ships?"

"I didn't suggest blowing out one of her bulkheads."

Malcolm winced. "Point taken."

Trip elbowed him gently. "Hey. I'm sure someone's out there, Malcolm. Someone like a certain Communications Officer, maybe?"

He blushed and shook his head. It wasn't often that he was taken off guard and Trip couldn't help but grin at his discomfiture. "Um...I don't think so. She only regards me as a friend...and I'm her superior officer-"

"Malcolm. She's not in your direct line of command. She's Sciences and you're Operations. The only time that it matters is if the Cap'n, T'Pol and me are all off the ship at the same time. And that doesn't happen very often." Trip raised a hand as Malcolm began to protest further. "'Sides, when you're in a ship with eighty-odd people for five years, you think nothin' is gonna happen?"

"We aren't on a Boomer ship, Commander."

"Doesn't matter. We're all Human...well, except for T'Pol, Phlox and Porthos, anyway. Life's too damn short for regrets." Even as Trip said the words, he realized how much he meant them. After the Xindi War, T'Pol's marriage to Koss (and subsequent divorce), and his brief tour aboard _Columbia_, not to mention Baby Elizabeth, Trip no longer believed in waiting around for opportunities.

At least, as long as a certain Vulcan agreed, but the jury was still out on that one. Trip ignored the painful twinge under his heart at that thought.

"But-"

Trip raised an eyebrow at him. "But?"

He refused to look directly at Trip. "I'm Head of Security. I can't afford to divide my attention from protecting the crew. I can't be...compromised."

Trip frowned at the dark tone. "C'mon, Malcolm-"

"I can't. I just can't. I don't want to put her in danger because of what I do."

Trip crossed his arms and leaned against the console. "Does this have anythin' to do with what happened last year, when you ended up in the brig? I was wonderin' what the hell was goin' on."

"It's a long story, Commander, one that don't care to relate at the moment."

"I could order you to tell me."

"I'd prefer that you don't...sir."

Trip winced at how Malcolm was shutting him out. He thought that their friendship had evolved to the point where Malcolm felt secure enough not to do that, but obviously Trip had stumbled over a painful chapter in his friend's history. Trip decided to drop that particular subject for now. But it didn't mean he couldn't pump his friend for certain information.

"How long?"

He blinked at the change of subject, which wasn't really a change. "Excuse me?"

"How long have you liked her?"

Malcolm's face reddened even further, but he answered, "Since we left Spacedock."

Trip stared at him and tried to hide the smirk. "I'll be damned. Nearly five years? That's a while to carry a torch for someone and not act on it."

"As I said, Commander, I'd rather not be discussing this right now."

The warmth in the back of Trip's mind became tinged with a note of regret, but that melted into one of odd anticipation. If he could put words to it, they would be, _Damn stubborn Brit. I'll show him. _Trip had the distinct feeling that the TARDIS had made up her mind to set Malcolm straight.

Suddenly, Trip remember those days when his sisters Michelle and Lizzie tag-teamed their practical jokes on him, when he was a kid. Except this time, he was a co-conspirator instead of a victim.

Trip struggled to keep a straight face. _What are you plannin' on doing to him, Darlin'? Nothing hurtful, I hope?_ There was a surge of indignation as if she said, _Of course not, I'd never hurt him. _Trip grinned and shook his head. _OK, just checkin'._

He shook his head. "Fine, I'll drop it for now. But this discussion isn't over, not by a long shot." The computer chimed softly as information scrolled down the screen...then stopped abruptly. Trip read the short paragraph. "Wait. This can't be everything."

Malcolm frowned too as he tapped the controls. "Gallifrey...home of these 'Time Lords'...but almost nothing else. Strange, considering that's where this ship was built."

"Maybe it's classified information?"

"If it is, I haven't the foggiest idea where to access it."

Trip shrugged. "That's all right. I think we've got time to figure out the ship's systems."

"What if someone erased it from the ship's memory as a security precaution?"

Trip opened his mouth to protest, but closed it again. Of course, Malcolm was thinking tactically. "You think the TARDIS was boarded at one point, and Harkness's crew wiped the ship's memory."

"It's a possibility. It's exactly what I would do if _Enterprise_ was boarded by hostile aliens and I couldn't regain control of the ship." Malcolm shook his head and manipulated more of the controls. "I can't seem to access any footage from security cameras, so..."

"We're basically back to square one." Trip thought hard for any other solutions to their mystery. "Maybe we can find this Gallifrey on a star map."

"Assuming the navigation computer wasn't the first thing that was wiped."

"It's worth a try. Can you pull one up on the screen?"

Malcolm nodded and tapped the keys, but after several tries, he shook his head. "Nothing. This might take a while. If there is some sort of security lockout, I'll have to disable it from the main console itself. Since I have no way to know where to start, I can't promise a quick by-pass."

"That's okay, Malcolm. Do what you can." He clapped the Tactical Officer on the shoulder. "I'll do my best to help you, in any way possible."

* * *

After lunch in the Galley, both men went back to assessing the TARDIS's systems. Malcolm had made some headway in puzzling out the main computer system, but Trip was nowhere close to figuring out the source of the TARDIS's engine problems. He couldn't find the source of that awful grating sound she made as she landed, or just why they couldn't control her flight. It was as if some other force was pulling the TARDIS to her various destinations, but what was it?

"I don't get it," he said aloud, his voice echoing in the crawlspace. "According to everythin' I've seen so far, you should be functionin' normally, but you aren't. I feel like I'm doin' a crapshoot in the dark. How 'bout givin' a hint?"

There was a hesitant pause, then he felt a definite surge from the engines. Something rattled from above, but it wasn't the walls of the TARDIS. It sounded more like a...typewriter? Or a computer printer?

"Trip, get up here! I think we're receiving a message!"

He pulled himself back onto the main control level. "A message? From whom?"

"I don't know." A sheet of paper slid from the printer next to the keyboard and floated towards the floor. Malcolm grabbed it and looked at the message. "What the-?"

Trip asked, "What is it?"

"Does this man look familiar to you?" Malcolm showed the somewhat fuzzy image on the paper. It was of a man with spiky brown hair, intelligent-looking chestnut-colored eyes framed by spectacles. Trip's first impression was _college professor_, especially with the pinstriped suit, long red tie, and brown overcoat. Strangely enough, the man wore red sneakers on his feet, and not a formal set of shoes, like a professor would wear.

"Can't say the guy rings a bell, but-" Trip snapped his fingers, "-his outfit sure does. I saw some of those suits and ties in the huge closet, and those shoes. Looks like he does a lot of running around, considerin' the state of those things."

"So he's part of Harkness's crew, at least, and probably the owner of all those clothes? Half of those things in there don't fit him."

"It's probably a communal closet, then." Trip shrugged. "I bet he's Harkness's science officer, like T'Pol is for _Enterprise_. He just has that...geekiness to him."

Malcolm smirked. "He does indeed. Or the ship's engineer."

"Wearin' that get-up? Not if he doesn't want that coat caught somewhere, like a door or a engine manifold." Trip shook his head, but he couldn't stifle the smile at Malcolm's good-natured insult. "But why would the TARDIS print out a picture of this guy?"

"We probably need to find him to fix the ship. Makes sense, if he knows the systems." Malcolm eyed the control console. "It's a start, but we really a hint as to where he is."

The TARDIS lurched to the left, then to the right, before settling with a bone-jarring thump. Trip grabbed the railing as Malcolm clutched the console. They stared at each other, then at the walls of the TARDIS.

"Y'know, we really oughta figure out how to fly this ship," Trip muttered.

"Agreed. These landings can't be good for us, as well as the TARDIS." Malcolm straightened from the computer terminal. "I wonder where we ended up this time."

"Can't find out just sittin' here. C'mon, Malcolm." Trip carefully stepped onto the walkway leading from the control console to the double doors. "Maybe we'll find this guy wherever we're at now."

"Commander, wait-"

Trip cracked the door open, and waited for the sound of gunfire, inclement weather, or any other threats to their lives. Laughter and soft music floated past, and the fruity smell of tropical drinks wafted past his nose. He frowned and pushed the door open all the way and poked his head out.

A virtual paradise, next to the ocean, with people milling about in the skimpiest clothing imaginable. Trip spotted several non-Humans lingering on a bench, as waitresses served drinks to their customers. He narrowed his eyes at a particular sign, _The Jolly Pirate. Established 2125._

"I know where we are, Malcolm. We're on Risa!" Trip glanced over his shoulder. "Malcolm?"

The TARDIS had disappeared and Malcolm was gone with it. Trip's jaw dropped; it was as if neither of them had existed.

Trip stood on a beach boulevard on Risa, all alone. He looked up as the wind gently swept through the palm trees and muttered, "Just great. What the hell am I supposed to do now?"


	5. Paradoxes in Paradise

Trip discovers Risa's other pleasures that he skipped the first time around. He also picks up more clues to the mysterious "Doctor" and "Rose", and meets a uniquely familiar Captain...

This isn't exactly the same as "Two Days and Two Nights". How many differences can you spot?

Spoilers: ENT "Two Days and Two Nights", "Acquisition". Nuvian Masseuses are mentioned in ENT "Fallen Hero" and a Nuvian female was seen in ENT "Raijin".

Torchwood, "Captain Jack Harness". (BTW, Harper's dead, but he isn't gone forever. He'll be back.)

_Kanar_ is a Cardassian alcoholic drink (TNG "The Wounded", DS9).

**Time relative to Enterprise (2156)**

**February 18, 2152**

**Risa**

**(-3 years, 1 month, 17 days)**

Trip walked down the boulevard, taking in the sights and sounds of Risa. The sun shone brilliantly in a perfect azure sky, with the salty smell of the ocean mixed with the aroma from the restaurants. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine being back in the Florida Keys on a summer afternoon. He smiled at the sight of children at play on the beach, at tight clusters of people having lunch on the patios, and couples strolling hand in hand on the boardwalk.

He saw a group of lifeguards gathered at a first aid station, obviously in the middle of a training exercise. Yes, there were Humans, but a Vulcan, a shapely Andorian woman, and...was that a Klingon man, bare-chested and long, black hair flying in the wind? Trip blinked, rubbed his eyes and looked again. He wasn't seeing things.

_Okay, that got to be the weirdest thing I've ever seen. _This was definitely not the Risa he remembered, not if a Vulcan, and Andorian and a Klingon worked together on a lifeguard team. Hell, a Vulcan swimming in the ocean was shocking enough, much less a Klingon cavorting around without his armor and a _bat'leth_.

So far, there didn't seem to be any pressing crises to solve, so why did the TARDIS leave him here, high and dry, with no way to find out what was going on-

_Wait a minute. Yes, there is. With a little old-fashioned pavement-pounding, I should be able to figure out why we're on Risa..._He picked up his pace through the crowd, dodging anti-grav skateboarders and skaters on the way. When he turned off the main boulevard to a side street, he found what he was looking for: a public information terminal. The first thing he noticed was the date.

February 18, 2152. Trip stared at it for a moment and tried not to blush in response. Of course...the infamous two day, two night shore leave. He winced as he remembered when he and Malcolm had been tied up in a basement wearing nothing but their Starfleet blues. Certain members of the crew still wouldn't let him live that down, almost four years later.

It was the time stamp next to the date that caught Trip's attention. 13:15, Risan Local Time (RLT). He tapped more keys and brought up more information. Yes, there was the hotel reservation he had booked for his stay. It had been a double suite, with Malcolm next door. Trip shook his head; neither of them had ended up sleeping in those rooms, either by themselves or with pleasant company.

He frowned. There was something missing. He scrolled back a page, then forwards again. The only name on the reservation was his. Malcolm's wasn't there at all. In fact, there was no mention of a Malcolm Reed anywhere. So where was he?

Events had already been changed. Someone tapped him on the shoulder and a feminine voice asked, "Excuse me, are you finished with that terminal?"

He nodded quickly. "Of course. Sorry, ma'am." He stepped aside and out of the flow of traffic, reached into his pocket and found a standard issue Starfleet communicator. Trip flipped it open. "Tucker to _Enterprise."_

"This is _Enterprise_," came the cool tones of Sub-Commander T'Pol. "Do you require anything, Commander?"

Trip's mouth twitched as he thought, _Well, at least __**that **__hasn't changed a bit. _Aloud, he asked, "Sub-Commander, can you locate Malcolm Reed for me?"

There was a slight pause, then T'Pol answered primly, "The Lieutenant Commander's transponder has been turned off. I assume he wishes to spend his shore leave in private." The meaning was clear: _None of your damn business, Commander Tucker._ _Leave the man alone._

Trip gaped at response. _Lieutenant Commander? When did Malcolm get a promotion? _He closed his mouth and said, "That's all right, Sub-Commander. I'm sure I'll talk to him when we get back to the ship."

"Very well. I shall inform Captain Robinson that you have checked in ahead of schedule."

_Robinson? A.G. Robinson? _Trip nearly dropped his communicator in surprise. "Uh...thanks. Tucker, out." He snapped his comm closed and shook his head. A.G and Jon had been the two candidates for the captaincy of _Enterprise. _Apparently, A.G had won the coin toss in this universe.

_Then where's Jon?! _His instincts were working overtime, and they were all screaming at him. Something was definitely wrong here, and he needed to find out what it was.

He put his communicator back in his jacket pocket and felt something else there. He pulled out a folded up, yellow sticky note and unfolded it. The red lettering said, _Confirmation of appointment at Twelve Palms, with Nuvian Masseuse Tinatha. Tucker, C. 14:30. Bring a friend if you have one._

Despite himself, Trip grinned widely. Nuvians had twelve fingers on each hand and were renowned for their massage parlors on Risa. He hadn't had a chance to visit any of them on his first visit here, but now..._first time for everything, I guess. _He tucked the note back into his pocket. He needed to find where this Twelve Palms was located. Then he needed to get something to eat, and figure out how to find an Armory Officer who apparently didn't want to be found.

* * *

He found a small seafood place off the beach. A tall, gray-skinned alien greeted him at the door and ushered him to a table on the back porch, facing the ocean. The man's smile rivaled Phlox's on a good day, despite his thick, snake-like neck and cranial ridges.

"My name is Gan Tikat. May I recommend the Risan swordfish, with the finest vintage of _kanar_ and _th'kak_ souffle for dessert."

"_Kanar_?"

"An alcoholic drink from my homeworld. There are several varieties. The light purple one is mild, but the black one can bring down a 400-pound Tellarite."

"I think the light purple one's good," Trip said. "By the way, where are you from? I don't think I've seen your people before."

Gan Tikat grinned widely. "Lakarian City, on Cardassia Prime. As for not seeing anyone like me, that doesn't surprise me. We have just joined the Interstellar Coalition recently, thanks to your great diplomat. My family was among the first to settle on Risa and open this restaurant."

"'Great diplomat'?" Trip asked, though he had his suspicions as to whom Gan Tikat referred.

"The great Jonathan Archer. His Interstellar Coalition has brought so many of us together, where there might not have been hope for the future." Tikat tapped Trip's order into his tablet. "I will return with your food."

"Thanks." Trip sat back with a stunned expression. _The great Jonathan Archer...his Interstellar Coalition..._was this what Daniels was hinting at, when he said that Archer was an important person in the future? In this particular universe, Jon had succeeded much earlier than in Trip's, and apparently, was much beloved on many different worlds.

Jon Archer was a diplomat, A.G. Robinson was the captain of the _Enterprise_, T'Pol was still a Sub-Commander and Malcolm Reed was a Lieutenant Commander, somewhere on Risa. _Definitely not my universe at all._

To Trip's delight, food was served in a timely manner, by Gan Tikat himself. He entertained Trip with stories about Cardassia and his misadventures on Risa since his arrival two years before. Tikat was quite the raconteur.

"...And then this tall fellow just waved this thing like a wand and the killer robots froze in their tracks, just like that! It had to be some sort of sonic jammer, but I'd never seen that particular make or model before. Then he turned to me and said, 'Right, then, Mister Tikat, I'll be on my way. Oh, and I do hope this will pay for the damages.' So he gives me a fistful of Coalition credits, enough to pay for expansion and then some..."

Trip laughed. "You've got to be kiddin'."

Tikat raised his hand as if taking an oath. "I swear to you, Mister Tucker, it was a fortune's worth, and this man just shoved it at me as if it was of no consequence to him. Perhaps it didn't, or perhaps he had no idea how much it was to begin with. Then this blonde woman says, 'So all's good, yeah?'. And I bow to her and tell her, 'Madame, if your presence lights up the darkest star, then I cannot hold you responsible for what wasn't your fault to begin with.'"

"You charmer."

"No harm meant to her, but her companion wasn't amused by it. His demeanor changed like quicksilver, I tell you." Tikat set his face in grim lines and said, "'Very well, we should be going. Come along, Rose, the rest of the universe awaits!' Then he turned and strode off, his long brown coat flying in the wind, like some sort of nobleman."

"So the young woman's name was Rose, huh? That's isn't a common name among my people anymore," Trip commented. He tried to keep his tone steady as he asked, "What about the man with the magic stick?"

"She called him 'Doctor', but I didn't catch his name. I assumed he was a medical man, but he seemed at ease with unfamiliar machinery, so perhaps he was some sort of engineer or designer." Tikat shrugged as if it was no consequence. "I've seen him back here, occasionally, he comes for some _kanar_and some flounder and salad, but he eats very little of it. He's more interested in the people, what happens where, that sort of thing."

Trip finished the swordfish; it was cooked to perfection, flaky and melted in his mouth. Tikat used spices that complemented the taste of the fish. He'd never had anything like this before. "This is delicious. Mind partin' with the recipe?"

Tikat gave him a mock glare and answered, "And give away one of my most well-kept secrets? I'd be out of business faster than a Risan feathercat with its prey. My apologies, Mister Tucker, but even for you I wouldn't betray my dear mother's memory."

"Your mom taught you how to cook? A good way to honor her, then."

"Family is an important part of Cardassian culture. I think of her every day, while I'm in the kitchen."

They chatted for a while longer, before Trip had to leave for the Twelve Palms. He invited Tikat to come along, but Tikat demurred, since he couldn't leave his kitchen unattended. Tikat told him that he was welcome back at any time.

"And if this Doctor or his lovely friend reappears, I'll be sure to mention you are interested in meeting him."

"Yeah, we engineers tend to talk shop whenever we get together. I'm curious to know if he's come up with anythin' useful."

"I'll make sure he gets the message. Give Tinatha at the Twelve Palms my regards."

"I will. Thanks."

Trip left the restaurant and walked down the street. So Tikat had actually seen the TARDIS's crew, this Doctor and Rose, and they were no strangers to Risa. The Cardassian had implied they visited Risa fairly often, and that they showed up without warning at the restaurant. Were they here at this moment and if so, where were they? Trip decided to do some more investigating at the massage parlor.

* * *

"Ah, you must be Commander Tucker! Welcome, welcome! Tinatha waits for you in the patio!" called out the receptionist. The Nuvian woman grinned at him, her deep-set aqua eyes sparkling under a network of cranial ridges that emphasized her beauty. She gracefully waved an arm in the direction of a curtain.

"Thanks." He pushed his way through the curtain to a large outdoor pavilion next to the beach. A set of massage tables were strategically placed around a huge steam-pool. To Trip's surprise, only one other client lay on a table, a dark-haired, broad-shouldered man being attended by a purple-haired Nuvian masseuse.

"I am Tinatha," whispered a soft voice at his shoulder. "Please, allow me to pleasure you to your satisfaction."

Trip started and looked over at the tiny Nuvian standing close to him. Her violet eyes gazed up at him, a perfect counterpoint to her jet black hair. She reminded him of Hoshi Sato for some reason, both in height and stature. He couldn't prevent the blood rushing to his face at the implication of her words.

"Uh-"

"Your first time here? Come, I can show you where to change and prepare for your session."

The changing area was as elaborate as the rest of the parlor, with marble benches and a soft, cream-colored carpet. Moments later, Trip was on the massage table next to the other client. The man seemed familiar, but Trip couldn't place him. Tinatha helped Trip stretch out on his stomach and she began applying oil to his back and shoulders.

"You are tense," Tinatha murmured. "Please, relax."

"Sorry."

"There is no need to apologize, Charles. Your mind is preoccupied, and so your body follows in the same manner. Let your thoughts drift, and you shall be free of worries."

The man next to them murmured to Trip, "You're in for a treat, friend. Just let her do her job."

The American accent caught Trip's attention and he grinned. "You sound like you've been here before."

"Every chance I get, which isn't often enough." He turned his head, which was pillowed on his arms. The blue eyes caught and held Trip's and Trip found himself blushing all over again. The man smiled- _and he has a nice smile,_ Trip thought-and continued, "Sorry, couldn't help but overhearing...you're Charles?"

"Yeah. Commander Charles Tucker the Third, known as Trip to my friends." Trip groaned as Tinatha's skilled fingers found a knot in his back.

The man raised his eyebrows. "Trip?That's an odd nickname."

"It's short for 'Triple', since I'm the third Charles in my family."

"Ah, I get it. I'm...James Harper. Captain James Harper." Harper sketched a little bow, as best as he could on his stomach. "Pleased to meet you, Trip. Been long on Risa?"

Trip relaxed as Tinatha moved to his shoulders and neck. Her touch was warm and gentle and seemed to melt the stiffness in his muscles. It took him an effort to remember Harper's question. "Just here for couple of days for leave."

"_Enterprise?_ I know your captain. A.G is one hell of a guy. I talk to him now and then."

Trip was surprised that Harper knew A.G Robinson. "You a Starfleet captain?"

"Former. I run my own ship now. ECS _Torchwood_. We pop in on Risa now and then on business. Then afterward we make sure to enjoy the scenery, if you know what I mean."

"You're a Boomer?"

"Not originally, but I get around the universe," Harper laughed and waggled his eyebrows, "in all manners of speaking."

Trip rolled his eyes; it was amazing how Harper seemed to turn everything he said into some sort of innuendo. Yet there was a sense of weariness under the words, as if he carried a heavy weight on his shoulders. Trip sympathize with Harper's burden of command; he'd seen it on his Jon Archer's face too many times in the Delphic Expanse.

Tinatha turned to her little equipment table and carefully scooped out a flat, black rock from her water brazier. With a flourish, she arranged the set of rocks on Trip's back and shoulders. The heat seeped through his skin into his very bones. Trip closed his eyes and drifted..._Damn, I should have come by here the first time. Didn't know what I was missin'._

"Been here before?"

"Yeah, once...went to a club with a buddy of mine and got into a lot of trouble." Trip hadn't felt so relaxed in a long time. "Got mugged by a couple of women who weren't really women..."

Harper laughed and his tone turned sympathetic. "Shapeshifters, huh? Yeah, they get you every time, and you don't realize it until it's too late."

"Never gonna get myself into that again. Embarrassin' as hell the first time-"

"We all have our really embarrassing screw-ups."

"Yeah, walkin' round in nothin' but your underwear..."

"I've walked around in public places without my underwear."

Trip opened one eye and regarded Harper with a look. "You don't sound like you minded."

"Why would I mind? If you've got it, flaunt it, I always say."

"Bet you got the local women throwin' themselves over you, then."

"Hey, it's Risa. They're gonna do that anyway. Might as well enjoy it."

"You aren't inhibited one bit."

"You miss a lot of things if you're inhibited, my friend. You sound like you're from...um, Alabama or thereabouts?"

"Florida."

"Southern boy. You sound like you need a guide to the delights of Risa."

Trip rolled his eyes again. "I'm not some sort of damn hick."

"Didn't mean to imply you were. You strike me as a smart guy, but just in need of some direction, as far as Risa goes."

"You volunteerin'?"

Harper made a scoffing noise. "Mister 'I'm-petrified-by-walking-around-in-my-underwear'. You realize that most Risans wear even less and no one even bats an eyelash. Ever heard of something called a _hor'gahn ?"_

"Nope."

"I've got a collection of 'em. They're like a token of appreciation. If you get one from a lovely lady, you're in for one hell of a ride."

Trip laughed. "Don't tell me you're carryin' around a whole bagload of 'em."

"As a matter of fact-"

"Aw Gawd. You're a walking hormone, Harper."

"Like I keep saying, it's Risa. What happens here, stays here. Unless of course, you draw attention to yourself by being embarrassed by walking around in your underwear."

"Hey!"

Harper laughed and shook his head. "See?"

Trip glared at him, then laughed too. If anything, this would be an interesting shore leave, much interesting than the first go-around. Malcolm was good company, but this Harper sounded like one hell of a party animal. It looked like he was going to have another chance at Risa...without the undignified ending.

_Ah, what the hell. This opportunity isn't going to come again. _Aloud, he said, "Fine, Cap'n Harper. You've got a deal."

* * *

Harper was right about one thing: the Risan nightlife was wilder than Trip even dreamed. Obviously, Harper knew all the social clubs on Risa, especially the ones not go to, and it didn't really surprise Trip that the one club he and Malcolm had gone to was on that particular list. What really surprised him was how everyone knew Harper and his alcoholic preferences. Most of the women (and some of the men, for that matter) knew him from previous encounters.

Trip took this in with amusement. Harper made a dashing figure, with black slacks, blue shirt and suspenders. Yet the not-so-friendly denizens took one look at at Harper's old-fashioned pistols and a huge laser gun on his belt and kept away. Trip felt a niggling hint of jealousy at Harper's popularity, but for the most part, the steady stream of people at the bar kept him occupied.

"Risan Sunrise, sir?" said the three-eyed woman behind the bar. "Made from the freshest tropical fruits."

"Yeah, thanks." Trip said as he accepted the second Risan Sunrise of the night. The flame-haired bartender smiled at him, reached over and ran a finger up and down his arm after she served the drink. Trip chuckled and patted her hand.

"You busy later?" She waggled her delicately sculpted eyebrows at him. "Looks like your friend over there is probably going to be too occupied to notice anything else much."

"Yeah. Well, he's a popular guy."

"Captain Harper? He's the definition of popularity. And it's a pity that when he's around, no one pays attention to someone as handsome as you." She winked and added, "I'm Laila."

"Trip. Nice to meet you."

"I'm off in about an hour or so, if you're interested?"

He grinned. "I'll be here."

As the night wore on, Trip made his rounds on the dance floor. There was no shortage of eager partners for him or Harper. He noticed many small statuettes changing hands and remembered Harper's mention of the _hor'gahn_s. Now that he knew what they meant, it didn't surprise Trip to see those couples disappear shortly afterwards.

"And so we meet again, _Hew-man._ I should have known you might be here with him."

Trip froze at the familiar tone. He glanced down to see one of those big-eared orange trolls who had tried to hijack the _Enterprise_ during the first year. That smile was predatory...but for a completely different reason.

"Of all the bars in the universe..." Trip muttered.

"We weren't properly introduced the first time. I'm Krem, and you helped destroy my livelihood and my honest reputation. Rule number ten: 'Never forget your worst customers, the Great Wheel of Profit will bite them in their-"

"Oh, for God's sake. Can't we settle whatever this is later?" Trip mentally kicked himself. Of course, something had to happen on Risa. If it wasn't shape-shifters, it was a diminutive orange troll. He didn't know what happened between this universe's Trip Tucker and Krem, but if it was anything like what happened in his universe, this might become ugly.

"No. We settle this now. Here." Krem grabbed his arm. "I've been wanted to do this for a long time-"

Trip didn't know who threw the first punch, but the fight exploded up and down the length of the bar. The place dissolved into chaos as customers and dancers stampeded to the exits. He saw Laila defending herself with bits of broken bottles and a tray of oysters.

Krem's right hand flung out and a thin electric whip sliced the air. At the last minute, someone shoved Trip out of the line of fire. He stumbled over a bar stool and hit the floor. Harper flew bodily over him, thrown by the electric discharge. To Trip's horror, he slammed into the opposite wall and slid limply to the ground.

Trip crawled over and pressed his fingers to Harper's throat. No pulse. Harper's head lolled at an awkward angle, the blue eyes already clouding over. Captain James Harper was dead.

A dark surge of anger overcame Trip. He pushed himself to his knees and saw Krem, who kept everyone at arm's length with that whip. Trip gathered himself and tackled Krem below the knees. The troll bleated as he went down, his weapon flying out of his hand.

"You killed him!" Trip rasped. He lifted Krem by the collar; the troll was surprising heavy for someone so short. "I oughta-"

That was all he got out before another burst of energy caught him square in the back and darkness slammed down upon him like a heavy curtain.

* * *

Trip didn't know which was worse: waking up and finding himself tied up in a basement, or waking up and finding himself in the equivalent of the Risan hoosegow. Either way, being stunned was not on his list of favorite things to be. He groaned as he slowly sat up on the narrow cot. Warm Risan sunshine shone brightly through the one high window and blinded him.

Memory came back in bits and pieces. The Cardassian restaurant, the Nuvian masseuse, Captain Harper...and how Harper had sacrificed his life to save Trip's. Grief and shame overcame him; even thought he and Malcolm had embarrassed themselves the first time around, no one had died in the process. In this particular timeline, Krem had scored a lucky shot that had killed Harper. If Trip got his hands on that little orange troll...

"Commander Tucker? Good, you're awake. On your feet, sir. You're free to go."

"Wha-?" He felt himself being hauled on his feet. "What about-"

"Mister Krem is being taken care of. As for your friend, his crew has reclaimed the body. Don't worry, you won't face any punishment; you were just at the wrong place at the wrong time. We won't tell your commanding officer as long as you stay out of trouble from now on."

_Reclaimed the body_. It hurt to hear Harper being referred in that way, especially after seeing him in the bar: larger than life, taking every opportunity with brazen abandon. _Eat, drink and be merry, for one day..._Trip shivered at the thought. Harper had definitely lived life to the fullest, as though he'd known what was going to happen. It still didn't make Trip feel any better.

Trip found himself shoved out into the quiet morning street. The waves pounded the beach, loud in the silence. No one was up and around after a long night of partying. For once, Trip was thankful for that. He glanced around to get his bearings, then slowly made his way towards the hotel where he'd booked that suite.

He walked past a gated courtyard, dotted with tables and chairs. It looked like a private eating area for the adjoining hotel. Trip glanced through the bars of the gate and stopped short. He turned and stared at the couple sitting at a far-off table near the hotel door.

_Nah, can't be..._Trip rubbed his sore, gritty eyes and looked again. _Nope, I'm not seeing things._

Hoshi Sato sat at the table, wearing a strapless red dress that showed off her perfect porcelain skin. A vast array of fruit was spread in front of her, and next to her sat...

_I'll be damned. _Despite his own tragic night, Trip couldn't help but grin widely. _The sly dog. So __**here's**__ where he's been all this time. _Malcolm Reed's plate was littered with half-eaten pineapple, and he reached over and poured tea from the pot on the table into his cup, then Hoshi's. She smiled and picked up a strawberry and took an experimental bite. Then she took a kiwi and tried it. Malcolm leaned towards her and murmured something that made her smile.

Finally, she rose gracefully from the table and took Malcolm by the hand. She led him to the hotel doors, where they both disappeared from Trip's view. Trip's mouth dropped at the expression on Hoshi's face, one that he'd never seen on the communication officer. And the way she'd taken the initiative, instead of Malcolm...

"The lady knows what she wants," Trip whispered. "Go Hoshi. Show him what he's been missin'."

He felt a familiar warm tingle at the back of his mind, looked up, and saw the TARDIS at the end of the street, as if she'd been there this entire time. For all Trip knew, she probably had, making sure Malcolm didn't get into too much trouble. Of course, Hoshi would make sure he didn't...or would she?

Trip chuckled and shook his head. He knew better than to underestimate Hoshi Sato, and with her together with Malcolm...they were a formidable team. Maybe Malcolm had finally realized that.

_About damn time he did, too._

The TARDIS hummed a melodic welcome and Trip had the mental image of a grandmother opening his arms to hug him. He knew his smile was bittersweet...if this meant that Malcolm found a little bit of happiness, Trip knew he'd endure the past 24 hours again.

"Hey, girl," he whispered. "Mind if I crash for a while? I'm worn out." There was a soft hum of agreement, and his smile became genuine. "Okay, you make sure Hoshi don't wear Malcolm out too bad. I need him in one piece."

The TARDIS "laughed" in agreement. Trip snapped his fingers, the door popped open, and he walked right inside.


	6. Interlude in Infinity II: Wrong Doctor

Malcolm's tight-lipped over what happened between him and the other universe's Hoshi. Trip finally meets the Doctor. It's the wrong one (not 10), but Trip picks up more valuable clues as to why he and Malcolm were "chosen" by the TARDIS. And how are the Doctor and Daniels connected?

Trip finds out "Harper"'s real persona, but not his real name. And being a Time/Temporal Agent isn't as easy as it sounds.

Later, our duo stumble over the scene of a tragedy. How can they change it?

Spoilers! (Hee!): ENT "Two Days and Two Nights", "Acquisition", "Shockwave I and II", "First Flight", "Similitude", "Twilight".

Doctor Who: "Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead", "The Time of Angels/Flesh and Stone", "The Pandorica Opens/The Big Bang"

Torchwood: "Captain Jack Harkness"

**Relative time: Infinity (∞) inside the TARDIS**

Trip didn't even bother to clean himself up; once he entered the bedroom, he collapsed into the bed and fell into a deep sleep. The exhaustion and grief melted away and ran off his body like warm rain. He relaxed into it, not caring about when he awoke.

He was in a library, but not the TARDIS library, and saw a glimpse of an attractive, curly-haired blonde woman in a space suit. She raised a finger to her lips and whispered softly, "_Spoilers..." _There was a surge of dry affection from all around him and the distinct thought of, _Exasperating woman..._

Then he was looking up at a high cliff, gazing at arcane symbols chiseled deep within the rock. He didn't recognize them; Hoshi would have more success at it that he would. The nagging sense of urgency came over him. _I have to figure out what this means. _He dug around in his jacket pocket and drew out a PADD. He squinted into the sun as he scribbled the characters on the screen. After he made sure he copied them correctly, he put the PADD back in his pocket.

He turned and found himself in a museum, with the exhibits protected in glass boxes. Trip recognized parts of _Enterprise_'s hull and some of the ship's electrical components. Mystified, he walked around the room. Here was a part of the transporter buffer, there was a whole drink dispenser, and over there was a phase pistol, with every part neatly labeled.

_Is this what's gonna happen to us in the future? Everything will be a museum exhibit?_Of course, it also assumed that his ship survived to be featured in a museum...

A hand dropped on his shoulder. Trip whirled around to see a tall, lanky man who wore a tweed coat, bowtie and suspenders. This man looked even more like a college professor, but his youthful appearance belied the image, at least until Trip looked into his eyes.

"Hello, Charles. I hope I didn't startle you too badly. Can I call you Charles? 'Trip' doesn't sound, well, dignified enough for someone like you. Makes you sound accident-prone, which you aren't, well, not really. All right, maybe a little bit. " He spoke with an English accent, just like most of the others in his dreams, but his was distinctly different from Malcolm's.

"Uh...hi. Who are you?" Trip realized how dumb that sounded, but the man's smile reminded him of his grandfather, which was strange considering he looked even younger than Hoshi or Travis.

"I'm the Doctor. Well, a future Doctor, not the one you're going to meet in—oh, I really shouldn't say. Spoilers. Sorry. In any case-" He waved an arm to indicate their surroundings, "-welcome to the 31st century, the main archive of the Federation. You just popped up here, out of thin air, at least from my point-of-view, and I assume the TARDIS sent you? She's very perceptive, the old girl-"

Trip raised up a hand to break into the ramble. "What? Wait, 31st century? You're the Doctor, in the future? Is it a title that's passed down or something? And yeah, a friend and mine are kinda stuck in the—your—TARDIS."

"Ah...Admiral Reed...oh, wait. 'Lieutenant' in your current time, right?" The Doctor winced. "Okay, forget you heard that. And yeah, you're in a TARDIS, but not my TARDIS. It's complicated."

"Okay," Trip said, drawling out the word. _Admiral Reed? Malcolm's gonna be an Admiral?_

"In any case, I'm in this restricted area for research into your time period. I had a museum guide, so to speak, someone from the Temporal Integrity Commission, but he was called away to deal with a crisis...I'm amazed that they trust Jack with events like that, considering he bollixed up the last couple of times-"

"A Time Agent?" Trip stared at this youthful Doctor. "Jack Harkness?"

The Doctor narrowed his eyes at him. "You know Jack's a Time Agent? Um, very perceptive, but keep that to yourself. Not common knowledge, in any case. I was referring to a different Jack. I wonder why a lot of temporal agents are named 'Jack', 'John' or somesuch. Boring names, but I guess 'Doctor' isn't too much better..."

The chatter was driving Trip crazy. Then his mind caught up with what the Doctor was saying. "Wait. 31st century, Jack...Daniels?" _Jack's his first name? That's just too...cruel for words._

"Yes! You've met him by your point in time!" the Doctor beamed. "Nice fellow, but needs a bit of help with temporal issues...means well, but tends to louse it up, make things worse, then I've felt obligated to help him clean up his own mess." He clapped his hands unexpectedly, making Trip jump. "Right. So, then, since you're here, maybe you can help me with a little thing."

"Uh...sure, Doc. What do you need?" His head was still swimming with the information he'd been (indirectly) given. If this was a future Doctor, then what kind of person was the present Doctor? Or would that be the past, by this time? Trip groaned and shook his head. Time travel was a pain.

The Doctor hurried to a set of cases along one side of the room. He paused and took out some sort of cylindrical instrument the size of a light pen, waved it over one of the cases. Trip's eyes widened at the whirring, mechanical sound that was so familiar.

"That's-"

"Sonic screwdriver. Quite useful for times like these. Anyway-" he reached into the case and pulled out a blackened component. "Can you tell me what this is?"

Trip's heart plunged into his stomach at the sight. Yes, he knew what it was, and he swallowed hard. "Yeah, it's part of the warp core assembly. The engine of the ship."

"Do you know exactly where this fits into the whole scheme of things?" The Doctor's demeanor changed from lighthearted to sober, and the contrast was startling. "There are fragments of similar size and shape in the other boxes. Do you think you can fit some of them together?"

"I can try."

"Good man. I'll retrieve the rest of the pieces and you can see what you can do with 'em."

So the Doctor went from case to case, opening each one and carefully delivering the contents to Trip. He sat at a nearby table, fitting some of the parts from memory, but others didn't belong. Some of them had been erroneously listed as engine parts, when they actually belonged to the ship's Armory or even Sickbay. Trip put those aside and made a mental note to correct them.

Finally, Trip managed to put together what he could from the exhibits. There were major gaps, but he now had a good idea what had happened. "I think I get it now. This is part of the a warp core injector, and this is a regulator. Judgin' from the stress fractures, they must've underwent one hell of a beatin'."

"Cataclysmic, you think?"

Trip's tone sank to a whisper. "Yeah. An explosion of that size would have completely destroyed the ship."

The Doctor nodded. "Some things are fixed points in time, others are variable. And I don't know what Jack's told you, but time can be rewritten. A ship exploding, a fatal accident, a historical event...they can be changed so it never happened, and the consequences can be dire, or they can usher in a new era."

"Yeah," Trip whispered. "Like the Xindi attacking Earth."

The Doctor put a hand on his shoulder again and said, "The Universe is a vast place, Charles, full of wonderful accidents and miracles. Sometimes there's a reason for them...some don't need a reason. As for why you and Malcolm Reed were chosen to traverse the universe in that TARDIS, well...have you asked her?"

Trip blinked. No, he hadn't actually done that, although it was obvious that the TARDIS had a mind of her own. "Uh-"

"I take that as a 'no', then. Ask her. You've been given an important task and an important responsibility, Charles. Use your mind and make the right decisions." The Doctor patted the table next to the damaged injectors. "And while you're doing that, I can work on this. And...what about those other parts you've set aside?"

"Those? Labeled wrong. Those aren't even parts of the warp core."

"Ah, thought so. The problem with museums, the half of what they believe is correct, isn't." The Doctor chuckled and shook his head. "Anyway, you've been such a great help. And remember what I said about the universe. There are many branches, many possibilities, and not just a single one that's the end-all and be-all."

Trip nodded. He had a lot to think about. "I will. Thanks."

"I just can't wait until we meet face-to-face...the universe might not take it! Well, then off you get, wakey-wakey and all that, before your friend gets himself into more trouble than he can handle."

Trip tried to make sense of the rambling statements, spoken at warp nine without a single pause for breath. _Wakey-wakey? What am I, five?_

"I'll leave you for now, but we'll see each other again. Well, in a manner of speaking, anyway."

"Wait, Doc-" His surroundings were already phasing out of existence, but he could have sworn the youthful Doctor's clothing had changed to a familiar blue jumpsuit, with red stripes on it...

* * *

Someone rapped on the door, hard. Trip jerked up and nearly fell out of bed. His mind still whirled from all the new visions in his head. Most of them were already fading and he struggled to hold on to them as long as he could. Another bang from outside jolted him completely awake. He struggled out of the warm blankets to the bedroom door. Trip staggered down the short corridor to the control room and paused at the sight of Malcolm at the double doors of the TARDIS.

_Malcolm looks kinda dazed, as if he's still in a dream. _Trip clamped his jaw shut as he watched a slow smile creep over the Armory Officer's face. He didn't want to disrupt this rare moment; it wasn't often Malcolm let his guard down to show the emotion under it. Despite himself, Trip smirked and amended his thought, _He looks like a man who's had the best night of his life. Hoshi must've really rocked his world and then some._

Malcolm winced as if he heard Trip's thought and turned to meet Trip's eyes. "Commander."

"Malcolm." For some reason, Trip felt like a father who had just caught his son sneaking back into the house at dawn. The image nearly made him laugh aloud. He smirked at the familiar outfit: blue shirt and slacks, the same one Malcolm had worn to Risa the first time around. "Please tell me she didn't allow you to wear that in public."

Malcolm cocked an eyebrow at him and replied, completely deadpan, "Actually, no, she didn't. In public or in private."

"You dog! Now I know where you were all this time!" He softened his smile. "Was it all you hoped it would be?"

He blushed a little, and the usual dry humor was absent from his voice. "It was all that and more."

"I told you so."

"You did." Malcolm shook his head. "There's a lot I need to sort out in my mind...eventually. I rather envy my counterpart in that universe. He's a lucky man."

"Look at it this way...you know what to do when we get back home." Malcolm was about to comment, but Trip raised a hand. "Tell me what happened later. Get some rest. I doubt she let you sleep in very much."

He nodded and said, "Thank you." Then he disappeared into the bedroom, closing the door firmly behind him.

* * *

Hours later, Trip found himself back in the control room, a cup of rich coffee in his hand. The various levers and buttons on the control column bore tags that listed their functions, as close as Trip could determine, in any case. He accessed the database and typed in "Captain James Harper, ECS Torchwood, Risa." The information came out on the screen. Trip read it and nearly spit out his coffee all over the screen.

"_Harper, James Captain (I) US Army Air Force Corps, flew with the Royal Air Force during World War Two, 1941, listed MIA, presumed KIA. Harper, James Captain (II) USAF, observer with Royal Air Force, May 1955. Harper, James Captain (III) United Earth Air and Space Forces, 52nd Air Squadron, World War III, MIA over Augment-controlled airspace 1996, presumed KIA. Harper, James Captain (IV) Starfleet test pilot, killed in test of NX-Alpha, 2145"_

"Wait, that's not right. I was there when the NX-Alpha was being tested. A.G. Robinson flew that, not James Harper." Trip scowled and re-read the listing. "Something's changed."

"What's changed?"

Trip glanced over his shoulder at Malcolm, who had appeared on the other side of the control column. "I'm readin' something in the database that doesn't make any sense. I met a guy on Risa named James Harper, who claimed to know A.G. Robinson, and said he was in charge of an ECS ship."

"But I take it you're seeing otherwise?" Malcolm walked around and read the paragraph Trip pointed out to him. "This Harper flew the NX-Alpha? I thought Robinson did that."

"In our timeline, A.G did, and we beamed him out in the nick of time. Apparently, in this one, it was Harper and he didn't make it. But if this is right, that means Harper's supposed to be dead."

"Which means-"

"Who the hell did I meet on Risa? It can't be the same guy if he's been dead for almost eleven years."

Malcolm crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned on the console. "You're not making any sense. Tell me what happened to you on Risa, and don't leave anything out."

Trip took a deep breath and told him everything that happened from the time the TARDIS had kicked him out. Malcolm's eyebrows lifted higher and higher, especially as he related how Harper had been killed while protecting him from an energy whip.

"You sure it didn't happen to be someone else with the same name? Maybe you can find a picture of this James Harper." Malcolm smirked as he read the biography again. "Interesting that every man with that name in the database were pilots, and two of them were involved with the Royal Air Force."

"Yeah, I noticed that." He looked at the column. "Can you find a picture of this Harper, Darlin'? Or at least one of the other guys?"

The TARDIS hummed and the printer came to life. Again, a single sheet of paper rolled off and Malcolm grabbed it before it hit the floor. Trip looked at it, blinked and stared at it again.

The TARDIS had found two pictures. The one on the left was of the third James Harper, the World War Three Pilot, who wore a USAF flight uniform that was appropriate for that particular era. The one of the right was the most recent one, who wore the familiar orange flight suit of the early years of the NX program. They appeared to be the same man, with the same rakish look in his eye and the same military bearing. Trip couldn't shake the feeling he'd seen the man before Risa, but he couldn't remember where. In any case, Trip was sure it was the same one he'd met at the massage parlor.

Malcolm shook his head and said, "You're telling me this man is over a hundred and fifty years old?"

"Someone froze him and woke him up?" Even as he said it, Trip knew it wasn't right. He wondered if Harper was actually a clone, then winced at the memory of Sim.

"And he just happened to be at the same Risan massage parlor that you were at?"

Trip frowned at the implication. "You tellin' me Harper knew I was comin'? Wait..." He searched in the pocket of his jacket until he found the folded up note about the appointment with the Nuvian masseuse. "That's weird. 'Bring a friend'. I think someone thought you might be taggin' along, and didn't know the timeline had been changed."

"Perhaps he knew and wanted to cover his bases?"

The words floated back to the surface of Trip's memory: _"Some things are fixed points in time, others are variable. And I don't know what Jack's told you, but time canbe rewritten. A ship exploding, a fatal accident, a historical event...they can be changed so it never happened, and the consequences can be dire, or they can usher in a new era."_

When Harper had taken A.G.'s place in the NX-Alpha, he had changed the course of that particular timeline. A.G wouldn't have died when it was destroyed, which meant that he survived to take command of the _Enterprise, _which meant Jonathan Archer would have had the opportunity to form the 'Interstellar Coalition', which meant...

Harper's sacrifice took on a whole different meaning, and the effects were giving Trip a headache. Since Harper had saved him, did it mean that his counterpart in that universe was destined for something special?

He said slowly, "You thinkin' this Harper's another one like Daniels?"

Malcolm shook his head. "He has to be. He saved Robinson's life in that universe by taking his place in the NX-Alpha, and your life by taking that hit from Krem's whip. Harper's got to be a Temporal Agent."

Trip gave himself a mental kick. "Damn. If I'd known that, I would've asked him all sorts of questions."

"You didn't know at the time, and if he's a Temporal Agent, he wouldn't have told you. Your chef friend...Tikat? He's actually seen our mysterious 'Doctor' and 'Rose'."

Trip paused at the mention of the 'Doctor', as a blurry image of a much younger man came to mind. He shook his head to clear it. Of course, Malcolm meant the one in the picture that the TARDIS had printed out for them. Why was he thinking about someone else?

He refocused on the conversation. "Yeah, and Tikat implied that they dropped by pretty often too. I didn't think Risa was a hotspot for Temporal Agents too, but with all sorts of visitors, they'd blend right in. Pretty ingenious."

"Makes tactical sense. Plus it confirms another thing: the 'Doctor' does work with machines, so he's probably the engineer. We know that they're regulars to Risa, and that we're on the right trail." Malcolm pulled a folded up piece of paper from his pocket and smoothed it out. It was the picture of the man with the glasses, long coat, and red sneakers.

Trip stared at it for a minute, as his subconscious tried to remember something important. He gave up again and asked,"You think the TARDIS is retracin' his steps, so we can find him? It's a start. If we go back far enough, we'll run into him, eventually."

"And now that we know what he physically looks like, we can be on the watch for him." Malcolm frowned and said, "One other thing: if the timeline's changed, why do we remember the old one?

Trip frowned. "I don't understand what you're getting' at, Malcolm."

"Why do we remember Jonathan Archer as the captain of _Enterprise_ and not the 'great diplomat'? If we changed history, our memories should have changed too."

He paused as he considered that paradox. "You know, you're right. It's like there are two parallel histories, side by side, and we're aware of both and neither cancels out the other. That's weird."

Malcolm's mouth twitched in grim humor. "That's understating it a bit."

"Time Travel 101. Unless...there are many branches, many possibilities, and not just a single one that's the end-all and be-all." Trip paused again and thought, _Where did those words come from? Wherever they did, they sound right._

"Quantum physics, every decision leads to a branch in the tree, every decision splits the universe into two." Malcolm nodded.

Trip felt a gentle warmth pass through him and the faintest hint of a mental nudge. For the first time, he realized he realized he hadn't eaten anything at all that morning. He chuckled and looked up at the control column. "Okay, Darlin', I'm goin' to grab somethin' to eat. You don't have to nag me."

Malcolm gave him a crooked smile. "Interesting that she talks to you and not to me. If I was so inclined, I might be jealous that she seems to enjoy your company."

He shrugged and said, "You just need to know how to talk to her, that's all."

* * *

During lunch, Trip tried to ask the TARDIS, _Why did you pick me and Malcolm, out of the entire crew? Why not Jon or Hoshi? _She shied away from his question and didn't answer, but Trip knew it was more than just 'because you two just happen to be in the Cargo Bay at the time'. There was something else.

A sudden surge of panic hit him as he was swallowing a bite of his sandwich. He nearly choked on it; he grabbed his iced tea and managed to unstick his throat before he got into real trouble. "What is it?" he demanded. "What's wrong?"

"Trip! Get down here!" Malcolm had referred to him as 'Trip' and not 'Commander', so it must have been pretty bad.

He flew down the hall and down the spiral staircase. "What is it, Malcolm?"

Malcolm turned a screen around so Trip could see. Trip's mouth dropped at the sight of a blackened, charred patch on a planet directly ahead of them. The debris of several ships drifted nearby, as if they'd battled hard to defend that planet...and lost.

"Where are we?"

Malcolm tapped the controls and frowned at the results. "According to this, we're at a place called Ceti Alpha Five."

"Doesn't ring a bell. It might be that our _Enterprise_ hasn't been out this far yet, depending on what year this is." Trip narrowed his eyes at one patch of debris. "Darlin', can you zoom in on this bit? I can't see it clearly."

Obediently, the view changed to magnify the area he requested. Malcolm pointed at one particular piece that drifted past. "Look."

The piece was definitely a piece of a starship's hull. _Intre-_

"_Intrepid?_" Trip asked, incredulously. "Carlos Ramirez's ship?"

"Something terrible has happened here," Malcolm said grimly. "If what the TARDIS is showing me is correct, I'm reading at least two other ships in the debris field that are composed of alloys used in Earth vessels."

"Any signs of life?"

"No, not on the planet. If there was a colony there, it's been completely razed. The dispersal patterns and ionization traces tell me that it was most likely a planetary bombardment."

Trip didn't doubt Malcolm's assessment; that was his area of specialty, after all. A sense of helpless rage rose in Trip's throat and it was all he could do to throttle it back down. "Who the hell did this?"

"I don't know, but they did a thorough job. It's as if they wanted to make sure nothing-and nobody-survived." Malcolm's tone was hard steel. "Either they're very tidy or they're a believer in overkill."

"God." Trip leaned heavily against the railing next to the control console. "Darlin', can you give us a clue what happened? Is there anythin' we can do?"

The TARDIS hummed, then focused on a different area of the screen. Trip frowned and pointed at an lump of metal hovering at the edges. It was dented in places, but still recognizable. "Is that-"

"It appears to be a log buoy. Someone managed to launch it before they were destroyed. The emergency beacon's not working, which might explain why it was overlooked by the attackers. Fortunately for us. Power levels are extremely low, which means it was drifting out there for a long time."

"Yeah." Trip scowled at the buoy, floating in space for God knew how long. "Let's haul it in, Malcolm. If we can download any information from it, we might be able to find out why the TARDIS brought us here."


	7. Dawn Before Twilight

Trip and Malcolm tackle their most difficult time correction yet, for personal reasons. There are two jumps in the chapter (2165 and 2153).

ENT "The Expanse","Twilight"

One of the questions I always had w/the whole Xindi arc: Wouldn't Earth have any planetary defense systems when the initial weapon appeared in 2153? If the Xindi had destroyed them, that fact would have been mentioned.

Doctor Who: "Tooth and Claw", "The Sound of Drums", "The End of Time Parts I and II"

The Time War occurred sometime between the Eighth Doctor (played by Paul McGann) and the Ninth Doctor (Chris Eccleston). It involves the Time Lords of Gallifrey and the Daleks and ended with the destruction of the Doctor's homeworld. The details of the Time War aren't clear, but it's implied that he (the Eighth Doctor at the time) made the fateful decision to destroy Gallifrey to save the rest of the Universe. The Doctor is (supposedly) now the last of his race.

The whole incident was put under a Time Lock so no one (the Doctor included) could time-travel back to it and change the outcome. In"The End of Time", the Time Lords escape and attempt to take over Earth. Of course the Doctor stops them, but ends up regenerating from 10 into 11.

James MacCrimmon was the name of one of the Second Doctor (Patrick Troughton)'s Companions. The Tenth Doctor (David Tennant) used "Doctor Jamie MacCrimmon" as an alias when he and Rose Tyler met Queen Victoria in "Tooth and Claw".

* * *

**Relative Time to Enterprise NX-01 (January 2156)**

**November 2165**

**Ceti Alpha Five**

**(+ 8 years, 11 months)**

"...we've lost our port nacelle...been ordered to withdraw...can't afford to...need everyone we can to fight the Xindi..."

Trip tensed at the grim tone of Commander Ayla Vaughn, _Intrepid_'s executive officer. Vaughn had reported Captain Ramirez's death in somber tones. The destruction of the ship's port nacelle sparked a chain-reaction that ended at their Bridge. Ramirez had been been standing with his back to the engineering station; the captain hadn't even seen the blast that hit him from behind.

Vaughn's voice suddenly scaled up in pitch and trembled with panic. "Oh God! Oh, my God! They've hit _Enterprise_'s Bridge! Their Bridge is gone! Everyone's gone! Captains Tucker and Reed, Lieutenant Commander Sato, they're all EV! Crewman Daley, can we use the transporter?"

Daley's reply was faint in the background. "No, ma'am. Transporter's inoperative. We can't beam them aboard, even if they weren't instantly killed in the attack. I'm sorry."

Trip met Malcolm's haunted gaze. It wasn't every day that you heard how you died. _Explosive decompression, if the blast didn't kill you first. You might be conscious for a minute or two...then you drown in space instead of water. _The Armory officer shivered and turned his gaze away first. Trip couldn't blame him; there were no words to describe the feelings of helplessness, of hopelessness.

Moments later, Vaughn's voice returned, suddenly quiet. "_Enterprise_ just went up. We're all that's left. Crewman Daley, do we have any engines at all?"

"One quarter impulse, and that's assuming we don't fly apart because of the field imbalance, since we left our nacelle floating somewhere." Daley said with gallows humor.

"The Xindi ships are regrouping and heading for the colony on the surface. We have to stop them...that's all that's left of Humanity." Vaughn's tone became rock steady as she gave the final orders. "This is Commander Vaughn. All personnel to escape pods. Mister Daley, target the largest Xindi vessel and go to one quarter impulse on my command."

"One quarter impulse, aye." Daley replied.

"May God have mercy on our souls. Appending last Bridge audio and Jettisoning log buoy now. Mister Daley, one quar-"

The audio dissolved into static, then silence. Trip realized he was gripping the edge of the TARDIS's console with white knuckles and forced himself to relax. "Jesus," he whispered. "They went on a suicide run."

"It explains the debris field," Malcolm said grimly. "They must have destroyed the Xindi ship, but the others destroyed the colony. The last Human colony."

Trip nodded. Ramirez's logs had been thorough, detailing the destruction of Earth and her colonies from the Xindi, and the desperate flight to Ceti Alpha Five. The five-thousand or so survivors settled on the surface, and both _Enterprise_ and _Intrepid_ patrolled the system for Xindi. Unfortunately, their luck had run out. The colony had been discovered and razed to the ground. There were no more Humans; the Xindi had seen to that.

Anger and grief welled up from deep within Trip, and even the TARDIS's gentle warmth didn't erase the pain. His world, his family, his ship, his people_...they were all gone. _Extinct. The only traces of their existence were a debris field and a log buoy from Humanity's last defender.

"This is wrong," Trip whispered. "We have to change this."

"Yes," Malcolm said, his voice hard as granite. "We must. We can't just leave it like this."

"Damn Xindi." Trip flinched at the emotions that bubbled to the surface. He thought he'd made peace with his need for revenge, but the rage roared back beyond his control. _I don't care; they're gonna pay for what they've done here. I'm gonna make sure of it-_

A sudden force knocked him back a few steps from the console, as if someone had slapped him. His hand automatically went to his cheek. "Hey! What the hell was that for?!"

"What'd I do?" Malcolm shot back. The whole situation had shaken the Englishman's normally calm demeanor.

"Not you, Malcolm." He glared at the TARDIS. "You didn't have to hit me, you know. You haven't seen your entire world destroyed and your people exterminated."

The TARDIS gathered herself, as if about to issue another giant slap, but the pain slammed him behind his eyes as she sent a torrent of images. Malcolm swore and staggered backwards, colliding with the railing, but the unseen force held them in its grip.

A great Time War: the red-robed Time Lords of Gallifrey, led by Rassilon, a man drunk with ego and power; The Doctor's horrible decision to destroy his own world, to sacrifice many for the good of the universe, and locking it all away under a Time Lock, and how that Lock was broken and how Rassilion rallied his people and would have destroyed Earth, if it wasn't for the Doctor...

Trip pressed his hands against his temples as he struggled to make sense of it all. "Damn," he rasped. "Okay, Darlin', I take it back. You do know how it feels."

"This Doctor must have gone through Hell," Malcolm agreed hoarsely. "He was alone. Completely and utterly alone. The last of his kind."

"That's a burden to carry around." He felt a surge of pain and loneliness from the TARDIS and he gently placed his hands, palm-down, on the console. "It's okay, Darlin', let it all out. We've both held things in for too long. Get it all out of your system now."

Even in the depths of her own pain, Trip felt her reach out to Malcolm as well, for the first time, and the three of them grieved in silence, but not alone anymore. Trip had no idea how long they stood there, as they mourned the losses of their respective worlds. Finally, it was Malcolm who reminded the other two of their present dilemma.

"What can we do to change this?" Malcolm asked quietly.

"Maybe we can prevent the Xindi's attack in the first place."

Malcolm gave him a knowing look. "On the colony, or do you mean on Earth?"

"I meant the very first one, Malcolm. The one on Florida and South America."

Malcolm leaned against the railing and crossed his arms, deep in thought. "You want to save your sister."

"Damn straight I want to save Lizzie. I wasn't the only one to lose people. Amanda Cole lost her family, Hoshi lost some of her students...if we can go back, prevent that death beam from hitting Earth-" Trip took a deep breath. "There has to be a universe where it never happened, where Lizzie and the others are safe and sound."

Malcolm's mouth quirked upwards. "Infinite possibilities in infinite universes. Trip, even if we save Lizzie here, it might not mean she's alive in our own universe."

"Yeah, I know, but at least I'll know that she'll be safe somewhere." His heart tightened in pain even as he said it. Malcolm was right; Lizzie could still be dead in their home universe, in their original timeline. _The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one. Damn, I understand that Vulcan quote now._

He shook his head, then he looked up at the TARDIS again. "Okay, Darlin', let's make that difference. Take us where we need to go and we'll do it."

The TARDIS left the desolate scene of destruction and arrived in a wholly different place...

* * *

**Relative Time to Enterprise NX-01 (January 2156)**

**March 2153**

**Enterprise, Sol system**

**(-3 years, 2 months)**

"Where are we?" Trip asked. The TARDIS hadn't made that wheezing noise as it landed at their destination. "The outside scanners are dark."

Malcolm frowned and went to the double doors. Slowly, he cracked them open and craned his head out. A minute later, he looked back at Trip. "We're back on_Enterprise._"

"What? You're sure?" Somehow that didn't sound right. Why would the TARDIS return them to _Enterprise_ when they needed to correct the biggest mistake in the universe? A dark sense of disappointment welled up within him, despite his best efforts.

"Yes, but we're not in the Cargo Bay." Malcolm stepped aside so Trip could take a look at their new surroundings.

Trip instantly recognized the diving helmet and the Frankenstein figure on the shelf above his bed. Engineering journals littered the already-messy desk, on top of schematics and half-written reports. As familiar as his own quarters felt, there were subtle differences. An ancient scroll of Vulcan calligraphy adorned one wall, next to another shelf with meditation candles and a thick volume bound in red. Trip walked across the room and picked up the book.

"The _Kir'Shara_, annotated edition, translated by T'Lin and Sukok?"

"Your...counterpart here has a book on Vulcan religion on his bookshelf?"

Trip chuckled softly and shook his head. "I think the Vulcans regard it as more than just a religion."

Malcolm smirked, but said nothing more about it. He picked up a holophoto on Trip's desk that showed the two of them and Travis Mayweather. Both he and Trip wore yellow stripes and four pips on their uniforms, while Travis wore three. Trip raised his eyebrows at the picture.

"Hang on, lemme check the closet." Trip opened the door and sure enough, the uniforms were all command gold with captain's pips. A name was stenciled in gold lettering along the right-hand stripe: _Tucker, C. III. _"Yup. Looks like I got a promotion, and so did you."

"Two captains on the same ship? We can't both be in command of _Enterprise."_

Suddenly, the comm chimed, startling them. Trip automatically touched the wall speaker. "Tucker."

"Captain Tucker, _Intrepid _is signaling ready for our rendezvous," came the voice of Hoshi Sato. Her tone was amused. "If you and my husband are finished with your strategic meeting, I'd like to get back as soon as possible."

Trip smirked at Malcolm, who couldn't hold back his astonishment. It took all of Trip's self-control not to laugh as he smoothly replied, "He's on his way."

"Tell him I'll meet him in the transporter room in ten minutes. He owes me a vacation to Risa. Commander Sato, out."

Trip cut the connection, then burst out laughing. Malcolm only raised an eyebrow and sighed in long-time suffering. Trip shook his head and looked down at his own red-striped, three-pipped uniform. "I think we both need to change. There's a captain's uniform in the TARDIS's closet, and I bet it's got your name on it now."

Malcolm shook his head again and stepped back into the TARDIS. Trip pulled one of the captain's uniforms from the closet and put it on. He noticed more subtle changes: the fabric was softer, more pliable, it was a two-piece and not a single jumpsuit, and in place of the ship's patch on the shoulder was an arrowhead-shaped emblem.

He called up his previous logs on the computer and quickly scanned the information. _Enterprise_ was returning from a string of First Contacts on the frontier. The last one involved a medical emergency, where they assisted _Intrepid_ in finding the cure. Captain Reed and his executive officer, Commander Sato completed their mission with great panache. Captain Tucker and his exec, Commander Mayweather, were transporting the Reeds back to their ship.

_No T'Pol and no Archer,_ Trip thought. He made an inquiry of the ship's computer and learned that T'Pol, his bondmate was on Vulcan as T'Pau's aide, and Jon Archer had accepted a promotion to the Admiralty...

His mind skidded to an abrupt halt. _Wait. Bondmate?!_

A shrieking noise jolted him out of his thoughts. It sounded worse than Malcolm's 'Reed alert' back on their own ship. Trip winced at the piercing klaxon; who the hell installed that on his ship? The intercom came to life again, this time with Travis's voice.

"Red alert, all personnel to battle stations. Captain Tucker, Captain Reed, to the Bridge. Red alert. This is not a drill."

Malcolm hurried out of the TARDIS, still affixing the last pip to the collar of his uniform. "What's going on?"

"Trouble," Trip answered grimly. "Come on."

* * *

Travis glanced over his shoulder as Trip and Malcolm stepped out of the lift. He nodded briskly at both of them as he stood up from the command chair. "Sensors detected an object approaching the Sol system at impulse speed."

Trip exchanged a sharp glance with Malcolm as he stepped down to the command chair. Travis moved to the helm and relieved the junior officer there. Trip glanced across the Bridge to see Hoshi at the comm station, consulting with a young man sitting there. "What is it?"

A familiar voice replied, "It appears to be a ship, spherical, and at least twice the size of _Enterprise_."

Trip snapped his head around to look at the man at the science station. The brown-haired man only regarded him with a steady look as he went on, "It will reach the Sol system boundary in ten minutes."

"Keep tracking its course, Mister...Daniels," Trip said tightly. He deliberately looked over at Travis. "Plot an intercept course, Travis, best possible speed. Comm, inform _Intrepid_ of our change of course."

Malcolm glanced at Hoshi, who looked back at him and nodded at some sort of unspoken cue. "We should get back to _Intrepid_."

Trip nodded. They had a better chance at stopping the Xindi ship with both _Enterprise_ and _Intrepid. _"Go. We'll catch up later. Good luck, Malcolm." He watched as both Malcolm and Hoshi went to the lift and caught Malcolm's nod as the doors closed.

Trip glanced at Daniels again. The Temporal Agent's eyes mirrored his concern and worry, but there was a steely determination that matched Trip's. The expression on his face reassured Trip, _We'll stop it from happening this time. _A beep from the science console distracted Daniels's attention.

"The sphere is approaching Pluto Station-"

"Sir," the comm officer interrupted. "I've just lost contact with Pluto Station."

Daniels looked sharply at the man. "All frequencies, Lieutenant DeClerk?"

DeClerk nodded, his blue eyes wide. "Yes, Commander Daniels. They just...dropped out."

Trip scowled and said, "Well, they've made their intentions loud and clear. Tactical, standby weapons-"

"Yes, sir," said the man at Tactical, and Trip recognized the MACO uniform and his heart sank. _Corporal Hawkins. No, wait, __**Major**__ Hawkins. I wonder if Malcolm recognized him and that's why he left the Bridge._

"They're changing course," Daniels said abruptly. "Heading towards Io Station and the Ganymeade Depot."

"Adjust to intercept. Inform _Intrepid." _Trip hit the comm on his chair. "Engineering."

A British-accented voice replied, "Engineering, Commander MacCrimmon, sir."

Trip started as he recognized the accent from his dreams. _No, wait, it __**can't **__be._Yet there it was, both young and ancient at the same time. It took Trip a moment to find his voice, and somehow the man's first name dropped naturally from his lips, as if he already knew it. "Any way to step on the gas, Jamie?"

"I can boost it up to a shade above full impulse, but we're too close in-system for warp. Can't do it too close to Earth-"

Trip interrupted him before he started rambling. "Give me your best, Jamie. We're gonna need it."

"Yes, Captain Tucker. Engineerin' out."

"Captain?" Daniels asked.

Trip regarded Daniels again. "Jack?"

"We'll stop them." The implication was clear in his tone. _We'll stop them this time._

Trip nodded and muttered, "We damn well better stop them."


	8. Battle for Earth's Survival

Trip and Malcolm coordinate efforts to destroy the Xindi Weapon before it devastates Earth in this timeline. Will they be successful?

Spoilers for ENT "The Expanse", "E²", and some lines from "Twilight". And I adapted the self-destruct code from "Star Trek III: The Search for Spock." I'm sure the NX-01 has one, but thank goodness Archer never got around to using it...

And maybe a wee technological borrowing from TNG "Best of Both Worlds, Pts I and II".

Doctor Who: "Reverse the polarity of the neutron flow". This is one of my favorite technobabble lines, first uttered by the Third Doctor (Jon Pertwee). Yes, it was in Star Trek: The Next Generation, but Pertwee said it first.

"Why do you have to be so...Human?!" The Eleventh Doctor said this to Rory in "The Big Bang".

* * *

**Relative Time to Enterprise NX-01 (January 2156)**

**March 2153**

**Enterprise, Sol system**

**(-3 years, 2 months)**

"Jupiter Station is scrambling defenses, Captain," reported Major Hawkins from the Tactical station. "Io and Ganymeade are also responding, but the entire force is fewer than forty ships. _Columbia_ is docked at Jupiter Station-" At Trip's sharp look, Hawkins continued, "Their shakedown cruise was delayed several days, sir. They're stuck there."

Trip shook his head in frustration. "Damn. Bad timing...time to intercept?"

Travis's answer was immediate as he said, "Sixty seconds. _Intrepid _will get there first."

Daniels gazed through his viewer and added, "Power spikes all over the Sphere...I think it's preparing to fire on Jupiter Station!"

"Torpedoes, full spread and phasers, Hawkins! Fire!"

"Firing, sir!"

_Enterprise _lashed out with both torpedoes and phasers, a split second after _Intrepid _did the same. The joint attack slammed into the Sphere's primary cannon and actually knocked the ship off course as it arced away from Jupiter Station. The Xindi hadn't expected such resistance, and that element of surprise had been enough.

"Positive damage to their main weapon, but the power signatures are cycling again. I've never seen these before-" Hawkins shouted.

Daniels's voice overlapped Hawkins's. "They're secondary and teritary energy loops. I think it's trying to repair itself!"

"Don't give 'em a chance to recharge," Trip ordered.

"Aye, sir!" Hawkins fired another spate of torpedoes, cutting into the previous damage and doubling it. "Looks like we've disrupted their regeneration signal-Damn it, the Sphere just fired their beam at _Intrepid! _It's a glancing blow, but _Intrepid_'s power output plunged down to forty percent!"

Trip snapped his head towards Travis. "Distract them from _Intrepid!_"

Travis nodded and warned, "Hang on!

Trip gripped the arms of the command chair as Travis threw _Enterprise_ into a tight arc and headed back towards the Sphere at full impulse. Minutes later, Hawkins hit the torpedo release again and a rain of destruction fell on the rotating rings around the Sphere. One of the rings broke apart with agonizing slowness, the debris scattering in its wake. Somehow Travis managed to avoid the worst of the it.

"Power drop from the impulse engines. I'm trying to compensate," Travis said.

"It's similar to the power drop _Intrepid_ experienced," Daniels added, "but it's not permanent. _Intrepid_'s energy output's back to normal."

Trip narrowed his eyes at the Sphere. "Does it disrupt energy fields?"

"It can explain why it didn't trigger anyone's proximity alarms at Pluto or Jupiter Station." Daniels's expression added, _or Mars Colony, or Earth, the first time._

"They didn't know until it was too late."

"Precisely, Captain Tucker."

Trip nodded at the comm station. "Relay the information to Captain Reed." DeClerk began tapping out a message to send to _Intrepid_.

The intraship com came to life without any warning. "Engineerin' to Bridge. What in the name of sanity are you doin' to my ship?"

Trip suppressed a grin. How many times had he wanted to say that exact phrase to Jon Archer? "Savin' it, Jamie."

"I'd appreciate a little warnin' next time! Blast it! I'm gonna have to reverse the polarity of the neutron flow-"

"Reverse the what?"

MacCrimmon hastily replied, "Ah...a little trick I picked up from some Coridan engineers...anyway, give me a few minutes and you'll have full impulse again. Engineerin' out."

"'Polarity on the neutron flow'?" Trip muttered to himself. "It's got a polarity?"

"It's an engineering thing," Daniels murmured.

"I'm an engineer and I've never heard of it."

Hawkins interrupted the tense banter. "It's moving again. Energy spikes are off the scale, Captain!"

The Sphere rotated once, then unleashed its power on the assembled Jupiter Station defense fleet. One moment it was there; the next, they weren't, as if the ships were soap bubbles on the wind. A shocked silence came over the Bridge at the expanding debris field.

"They're gone, Captain," Hawkins whispered. "All of them."

Daniels's voice was grim. "It's re-acquiring a target lock on Jupiter Station."

"Heartless bastards," Trip growled. The shock gave way to cold rage. _All those people..._"Give 'em hell, Major Hawkins."

Hawkins gritted his teeth and replied, "Aye, sir."

_Enterprise _let loose with more torpedoes and phase cannon fire, as _Intrepid _did the same from the opposite side of the Sphere. The targeting sensors on the death beam were thrown off kilter and the beam itself missed Jupiter Station by several thousand kilometers...still too close for comfort.

"Message from Utopia Planetia and Copernicus Base," called Lieutenant DeClerk. "Earth is mobilizing their defense grid and activating all available ships for defense."

"We've got to buy them time," Trip murmured. "If we don't stop the Xindi here, Earth doesn't have a chance."

"Indeed," murmured Daniels. "There's no way Earth's defense grid will be able to repel this weapon-Captain Tucker, we've got another ship approaching."

A third silver shape came into view and Trip silently cheered. "That's-"

"Captain Hernandez of _Columbia_ sends her regards," confirmed DeClerk, "and apologizes for 'joining the party late, but you try cold-starting a warp engine from dock'. That's an exact quote."

"Tell her she's just on time," Trip replied, "and give her engineer my condolences."

DeClerk barely stifled his laughter. "Aye, sir."

The Sphere rocked from the angry firepower of three starships, and parts of it crumbled away under the onslaught. A well-aimed barrage of torpedoes from_Intrepid_ destroyed what was left of the rotating ring, and _Columbia_'s phasers cut a huge swath across its far side.

"Incoming!" Hawkins shouted. "Brace for impact!"

A second later, Trip's world tipped ninety degrees and flipped him out of the command chair. He hit the deck hard, rolled down the inclined plane, unable to stop, until he collided with the railing. _Note to self,_ he thought dazedly, _seat belts for the next upgrade. I'll write up the work order myself._

"Captain Tucker!"

Travis's shout snapped him back to reality. "Report!" he bellowed, as he pushed himself back to his feet, ignoring the twinge in his left shoulder. Smoke poured from damaged computer systems and blanketed the Bridge.

"Shields are down! They absorbed seventy percent of that impact!" Hawkins yelled back. "Remind me to drop a thank-you note to General Shran."

"I'll sign it too. Ship's status?"

Hawkins shook his head as he replied, "Casualties on all decks, sir. Hull breaches on B Deck, C Deck, but automatic patches are active and holding...we've lost torpedo control from the Armory, and engines are down...wait, we've got half-impulse now and increasing steadily! MacCrimmon must've done something-."

"Jamie, you're a miracle worker," Trip muttered. A noise from the science station made Trip turn stiffly in that direction. "Jack?"

"It's changing course, heading for the asteroid belt," Daniels warned. "It's resuming a course directly for Earth."

"Keep with it, Travis! We have to stop it from reaching Earth!" He tapped his comm. "I hope you've managed to reverse that polarity thing, Jamie. I need full impulse now!"

"Full impulse, Captain Tucker!" MacCrimmon said triumphantly. "Whenever you want it!"

"Go, Travis!" Power thrummed through the walls as _Enterprise_ followed in hot pursuit. Trip got up and went over to Daniels's side at the science station. "What do we need to do to shut that damn thing down? We had three starships pounding on it and it's still tickin'!"

Daniels scowled and said in a low tone. "This wasn't supposed to happen like this. All of our projections indicated that _Enterprise_ and _Intrepid _stopped the weapon at Jupiter Station."

"Well, it looks like your projections were wrong. Unless we think of something fast, it's gonna hit Florida like it did the last time."

Daniels bit his lip as he brought up the last science scans. "It looks like they've designed it to instantly reroute power the minute its hull is breached. It delays the recharging process, but it doesn't stop it."

"We need one massive knockout punch," Trip murmured, "somethin' so overwhelmin' that it won't be able to compensate."

"And once that happens, it'll lose cohesiveness and explode."

Trip frowned as he glared at the screen. Suddenly, Lorian's voice whispered in a conversation that never happened with him, but with Captain Archer:

"_I had one last chance. Use _Enterprise_ itself, set a collision course with the probe. But I hesitated, my emotions took over. I couldn't give an order that would kill my crew. By the time I realized my mistake it was too late, the probe was gone. I won't let my emotions get in the way again. I will not let Earth be destroyed."_

_I won't let my emotions get in the way again._

Trip closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again. "Would a starship crashin' into its engines do the trick?"

Daniels started in surprise, then stared at him. "You aren't serious, are you?"

"Answer the question, Jack."

Deep silence blanketed the Bridge as the crew strained to listen to this conversation. Trip didn't have to turn around to see Travis's stunned expression. Daniels winced, then slowly replied, "The damage would be too great for the Sphere to repair itself, yes. It would overwhelm its systems. Captain Tucker, might I remind you of your obligation to your crew?"

"You can, and I'd say that I'm saving my crew and the whole population of Earth too." Trip gave Daniels a sad smile.

"Captain. Charles. You can't die here."

"Whoever said anythin' about dyin', Jack?" He turned to address Travis. "Exec, give the order for all personnel to board escape pods, and we'll launch 'em as soon as we reach Earthspace. Clear the Bridge."

"Hell no, _Trip_." Travis shook his head. "I'm staying."

The vehemence took Trip aback. He couldn't imagine the Travis from his universe speaking back that way. "That's an order, Travis."

"All due respect, sir, I'd like to stay too," Hawkins spoke up.

DeClerk nodded and piped up, "Ditto, sir."

Trip rolled his eyes and muttered, "I should write you all up for disobeying orders."

Daniels smirked. "You'd have to put one in my file too, Captain."

And MacCrimmon's voice echoed from the comm; Trip hadn't realized it was still on. "You've all gone nutters, the whole lot of you...why do you have to be so...Human?!"

"Because we are, Jamie," Trip replied blandly, even as Travis and the others gave him a questioning look. "Fine. Travis, give the order."

"Aye, sir." Travis nodded at DeClerk and issued the command. Minutes later, he announced, "Earth space in three minutes, Captain."

"I'm detecting an energy build-up in the Sphere," Hawkins reported. "It must be charging up its weapon."

"Confirmed," Daniels concurred.

"Travis, launch lifeboats. Then join me at the engineering station."

Trip motioned for Daniels to join him at the engineering station, and Travis followed. Moments later, Trip stared at the words on the screen, words he'd hoped never to see.

_Authorization codes accepted. Tucker A1A-Zulu-Alpha-Alpha. Mayweather CC3-Omega-Omega-Tango. Daniels Y6Y-Epsilon-Delta-Phi. Time to self-destruct? (enter time parameters)_

Carefully, Trip typed in, _1:00. _One minute.

_Awaiting final code for one-minute countdown._

Trip tapped in: _Zero-zero-zero. Destruct zero._

MacCrimmon's voice came back with a hint of alarm. "Grab onto somethin', we're gonna-" The deck shuddered once, then he finished lamely, "-chuck a wobbly."

The screen flashed its response: _Destruct sequence has been activated-Automatic computer timer has been disabled. 0:56._

Trip glared at the screen and muttered, "You've got to be kiddin' me."

"It's the dampening field," Daniels said.

"Not just that. It felt like something just broke." He slapped the comlink. "Hell of a time to blow a gasket, Jamie! I just set the self-destruct and we've lost the timer!"

There was a pause, then a panicked, "Oh no, that's bad, that's very, very, very bad. How much time do we have?"

Daniels sighed and answered, "Fifty seconds, even."

"With no computer control, we'll have to pilot the ship into the sphere manually, using our momentum," Travis said. He straightened and said, "Permission to resume my post, Captain."

Trip took a deep breath and nodded. "Granted, Commander. Let's finish this. Confirm lock to target."

"Confirmed," Hawkins said quietly.

"Forty-five seconds," added Daniels.

"Issue a warning to _Intrepid_ and _Columbia_ not to get too close," Trip said. He narrowed his eyes as the battered surface of the Sphere. It was reforming,_regenerating_, right before his eyes as its defense systems shunted power where it was needed. No, this was going to stop here, stop now.

If the price was going to be his life, so be it.

"Thirty seconds, Captain." The walls shook as Sphere gathered itself to launch its death beam at Earth. Daniels kept his gaze riveted to his own chronometer. "Twenty-five-"

Trip's world dissolved into golden sparks, and the _Enterprise_'s Bridge was gone-

* * *

-and he blinked as he found himself on a transporter pad. He stared at Travis, who looked as stunned as he felt on the next pad. "What the-"

"Welcome aboard _Intrepid_," came Malcolm's voice from the transporter controls.

Trip grinned at his friend's smirk and said, "Thanks for the save, Malcolm." He turned and did a quick head count, and the humor fled as quickly as it came._Travis, Hawkins, DeClerk, himself... _"We're missing two people. Daniels and MacCrimmon."

"Daniels?!" Malcolm repeated. He glanced at the transporter tech, but the man only shook his head.

"We had a lock on four people, sir. No more, no less. There weren't any more biosignals," the tech stammered.

"You're sure-"

Hoshi's alarmed tone echoed over the comm. "Malcolm, you'd better get yourself to a viewscreen!"

He crossed to the opposite wall and punched a button to access the ship's comm network. A gray screen coalesced into the image of _Enterprise_ on a collision course for a weapon port. The port opened to reveal the gathered energy of the death beam, but before it could fire, _Enterprise _slammed down the monster's throat at full impulse.

"Brace for impact!" Malcolm roared, as the explosion struck _Intrepid_ and the entire universe turned upside down.

* * *

Trip clawed his way back to consciousness. The first thing he heard was the squawk of animals and his first thought was, _Sickbay? I'm in Sickbay? _Soft voices overlapped the noise, but he couldn't make out the words. Where was he? Was he back on _Enterprise_? What had landed him in Sickbay this time? Was this the fourth or fifth time this week-?

"Ah, Captain Tucker, I see you're back with us?"

He blinked several times. _Captain Tucker? _His vision cleared to reveal a familiar face. "Phlox?"

"Captain Reed warned me about your penchant for heroics. You're lucky you survived with just a mild concussion."

Everything came back to him in a rush. The Xindi's weapon, the space fight in Jupiter's orbit, _Enterprise_'s destruction. Trip shook his head, but the surge of guilt and grief refused to let go. "Where am I? Is everything all right? Is Earth safe?"

Phlox gave his shoulder a reassuring pat. "You're in my Sickbay on _Intrepid._Don't worry, Earth is safe, but I've heard the clean-up of the debris is quite an undertaking."

Trip sighed and closed his eyes. _Earth is safe. Lizzie and the others are alive. We did it. _His sense of relief was tempered with the memory of Daniels' and MacCrimmon's sacrifice. They had died so Earth could live...but Trip knew that he'd see both of them again, sometime.

"You have a visitor, Captain."

He opened his eyes as Phlox stepped aside. The sight of his visitor stunned him so hard he couldn't breathe. There she was, tall and proud, her blonde hair in a hasty ponytail. She wore a bright yellow shirt and blue jeans with sneakers. The dark blue eyes sparkled with pride and worry at the same time.

Elizabeth Tucker smiled at her older brother, like she did in Trip's dreams since her death in his own timeline. But there she was now, in the flesh.

_Alive._

He sat up so abruptly that he nearly tumbled off the biobed. "Lizzie? I-"

"You're a hero, Big Brother," she teased as she gently steered him back onto the bed. "You saved the entire planet. Not bad for a day's worth, huh?"

"You're alive. You're really alive-" he choked out.

"Of course I'm alive." Lizzie frowned at Phlox. "You sure he only has a minor concussion, Doctor?"

Phlox frowned and stepped forward with his scanner in hand, but Trip waved him off. "I'm fine, Doc. Sorry, it's all just hittin' me right now."

The Denobulan nodded in sympathy. "You're only Human, Captain. I understand. The damage that weapon could have done to your planet would be incalculable."

"_Why do you have to be so...Human?!" _MacCrimmon's last words made Trip smile a little. He knew the answer: because he couldn't be anything else.

He looked up at the couple at the door. Malcolm and Hoshi smiled at them; Hoshi had her arm around his waist, while Malcolm draped an arm around her shoulders. Trip saw the unabashed joy in Malcolm's eyes that he didn't bother to hide.

"Thanks," Trip whispered. He could feel his eyes mist with tears.

Lizzie glanced back at him. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good." He hugged her hard. "It's good to see you, Little Sister."

"You too." Lizzie murmured into his ear. "I'm here now, and I won't leave."


	9. Even Heroic Acts have Consequences

Trip and Malcolm discover there are far-reaching consequences of time travel, especially when your ride is a month late. Some Trip and Malcolm angst in this chappie...don't worry, things will turn out all right in the end. But keep the tissues handy.

Spoilers: ENT "Terra Prime"

I was watching DW "The Doctor's Daughter" while I was writing this chapter.

* * *

**Time relative to Enterprise (January 2156)**

**April 2153**

**Starfleet Medical at Jacksonville, Florida**

**(-2 years, 3 months)**

Trip discovered one disadvantage to time travel and it was a big one.

He didn't want to leave this timeline, even with the full knowledge of what could happen if he didn't. Trip slowly recovered from the "Battle in Earthspace", as the Terran media had dubbed it. Starfleet limited access to the surviving _Enterprise _personnel, with one notable exception. He talked with Gannet Brooks, lead reporter for the Earth News Network and wife of his exec, Commander Travis Mayweather.

The whole ninety-minute interview was awkward as hell. Trip didn't know what was worse: deflecting Brooks's questions or being under the watchful eye of Admiral Gardner during the entire thing. The only thing that made it tolerable was Lizzie's presence at his side.

Malcolm visited him at Starfleet Medical at Jacksonville every day. Although Malcolm didn't say it aloud, Trip knew that he was reluctant to leave as well. Captain Reed had his own ship, his own crew and a wife who happened to be his executive officer. But Trip sensed there was something else bothering him, something more personal.

"Hey, you doing okay? You've been pretty quiet since we got back to Earth."

He shook his head. "I'm fine-" A spate of coughing interrupted him.

Trip frowned. "You don't sound fine."

"I may be coming down with a cold."

"Or your allergies might be botherin' you again. It is April now."

"You never told me Florida was still this cool in April."

"Just wait until July and the humidity goes up." Trip managed a smile. "Careful, or you'll give Hoshi the same bug."

Malcolm frowned at the mention of Hoshi. "God forbid. I wouldn't want her to catch whatever this is."

Trip's frown deepened at the concern in his friend's tone. "Okay, spit it out. What's wrong?"

Malcolm lowered his tone and said, "The TARDIS."

"Yeah, she usually shows up after we saved the timeline and take us where we need to go next."

"Perhaps we're missing something."

"We saved Earth. What are we missin'?"

"I don't know." Malcolm sighed and sat back in his chair, next to Trip's bedside. "I have a bad feeling about this,Trip."

He frowned as he considered that. "You think she's in trouble or somethin'?"

"I'm saying this is very unusual, even for her."

"Let's give her a bit more time, and then we'll worry."

Another week passed with no sign of the TARDIS's return. Trip found himself out of breath more and more often, and the spells of dizziness grew more frequent. To his alarm, Malcolm began showing the same symptoms at a much slower pace. Doctor Jeremy Lucas was in charge of Trip's recovery, and as the days went by, he became increasingly concerned. He ran every test imaginable; the results mystified the doctors. Lizzie, Malcolm and Hoshi happened to be at Trip's beside when he dropped the bombshell.

"Captain Tucker, I can't understand it. I've had Phlox look at these readings, but we're both stumped at what we're seeing."

Trip gripped his sister's hand tightly. "What's goin' on, Doc?"

Lucas passed a PADD to Lizzie; Malcolm and Hoshi looked over her shoulder to read it too. The doctor sighed and replied, "Your cells are losing cohesion, Captain. Every one of your internal organs are showing signs of degradation. It's physically impossible, but every one of our scans confirms it."

Lizzie's eyes widened as she scrolled down the pages. "What's happening to my brother?" she whispered. "What's causing this?"

"We don't know, Miss Tucker. His body is slowly breaking down, molecule by molecule." Lucas's face was unusually solemn. "It's as if he's suffering from extremely slow radiation poisoning."

Trip closed his eyes. Now he knew the real cause. He didn't belong in this time. As much as he felt comfortable, even happy, here, he couldn't stay. _And if I do stay here, I could cause more damage here in this time line, in the long run._

He had to go, as much as it hurt him to do so. He had saved Lizzie, and that was what mattered to him.

"...something happen when we yanked him off _Enterprise_?" Hoshi was asking, "With the transporter?"

Trip opened his eyes and looked over at Malcolm. "Doc, can you scan Malcolm too?"

Lucas frowned. "Captain Reed? Why?"

"Just a hunch."

Lucas shrugged and glanced at Malcolm, who nodded permission. "This will take only a moment." He passed his hand scanner over Malcolm, then read the results. "Good God-"

"What's wrong?" Hoshi demanded.

Lucas looked at her. "Your husband's showing the same signs of cellular degradation, Commander Sato. Whatever's affecting Captain Tucker is affecting him as well."

"How long until it-?"

He shook his head and replied, "At this rate...less than a week, for both of them."

She held Malcolm's hand with a death grip and whispered, "Scan me too, then."

"What?" Trip asked, confused.

"Just do it."

Again, Malcolm nodded, and Lucas did as Hoshi asked. Trip saw the fear and concern in Malcolm's eyes as Lucas looked at the results. _What the hell's going on? _Trip wondered.

The doctor took a deep breath and handed her the PADD. "You're safe, Commander Sato. Both of you."

Trip and Lizzie glanced at each other in puzzlement. "Both?" Trip asked. "What are you talkin' about?"

Hoshi nodded at him, tears trembling on her lashes. "I'm pregnant, Trip."

Trip's mouth dropped and Lizzie reached over to squeeze her shoulder. "Oh, Hoshi, that's fantastic!" Lizzie said.

"How far along?" Trip asked.

"Nearly a month," Malcolm said hoarsely. "That's what Phlox said."

"But-" He clamped his jaw shut as he did the mental math. "Oh, shit."

Lucas scowled and shook his head. "We're going to have to keep you here at Starfleet Medical Jax for the meantime, Captain Reed. Don't worry, Commander Sato, Miss Tucker...we're going to find a way to stop this thing from advancing."

"Don't forget to scan Commander Mayweather too," Trip said, "and Lieutenant DeClerk and Major Hawkins. We were all on _Enterprise_'s Bridge when _Intrepid _saved us."

Lucas nodded in approval. "I'll personally put out the recall order, Captain Tucker. Commander Sato, Miss Tucker, I'm going to have to ask you ladies to help me with the admission paperwork. Captain Reed, I'm sending a nurse down to help you get settled into the adjacent room." He glared at Malcolm and added, "Phlox warned me about your penchant of sneaking out of his Sickbay. Don't try it here."

Malcolm opened his mouth to retort, but Trip cut in, "I'll make sure he stays put, Doc."

"I'm holding you to that, Captain Tucker." Lucas nodded. "Time is of the essence."

Lizzie nodded and squeezed Trip's hand. "I'll be back, as soon as Doctor Lucas lets me."

He blinked back tears; this would be the last time he would see her. He slowly nodded as he committed every detail of her to memory. "Okay."

Hoshi hugged Malcolm hard and he murmured something into her ear. She nodded and followed Lucas and Lizzie out, closing the door behind her. As soon as they were gone, Trip sat up in bed and motioned for Malcolm to help him. "Get me disconnected from this thing. We gotta find the TARDIS."

Malcolm nodded as he deactivated the alarms that would alert the medical staff. "I take it you know where she is?"

"That's the problem. I haven't seen her since we were on this version o f_Enterprise_." Trip gritted his teeth as he untangled himself from the I.V line. "That's a bad sign. And if we stay here any longer-"

"We don't belong here," Malcolm finished, echoing Trip's earlier thought. His eyes were filled with regret. "If we stay here, we die."

Trip took another deep breath. "Malcolm-"

He shook his head once. "We have other things to worry about right now. You already knew that Mayweather and the others aren't affected by this at all."

"Yeah, but it'll buy us some time, since Lucas has to call 'em here." He reached for something to staunch the bleeding from his arm; Malcolm rummaged through the drawers and found gauze and medical tape. After a quick patch, Trip rifled through the closets to find civilian clothes he could wear. "We gotta hurry. I don't feel too good."

"All right. We don't know how long before Lucas's nurse shows." Malcolm opened the door and scanned the corridor. "It's clear for now."

"Okay. C'mon, before they send the cavalry after us." Trip closed his eyes and reached out for the TARDIS. The mental link was faint, so faint, but it was still there, and it was definitely fading. "She's on the roof."

Malcolm started and swore under his breath. "Bloody hell. On the roof? She doesn't make this easy, does she?"

"'Easy' isn't in our vocabulary," Trip muttered. He turned the corner and spotted an elevator. "Okay, up we go."

They took the elevator to the top floor. Just as they located the stairwell leading to the roof, a soft alarm rang through the halls. A feminine voice announced, "Hospital security, to floor 47. Security to floor 47."

Trip fought against a wave of dizziness as he struggled up the stairs. "They figured out where we are."

Malcolm said nothing as he looped an arm around Trip and half-dragged him up the rest of the stairs. The access door was locked, but one well-placed kick forced it wide open. Trip looked up to see the familiar blue police box sitting on the hospital's helipad, right in the middle of the Starfleet Medical logo. He hoped that no one was coming in on an emergency landing right at this moment.

Three steps, five steps, ten...Trip snapped his fingers and the TARDIS's door popped open. Malcolm pushed it open just as they heard booted feet climbing the access stairwell behind them. They fled inside just as they heard shouts. Trip's legs failed to hold him upright and he fell on his knees.

"Get us outta here!" he rasped. "We need to get outta here now!"

The horrible grinding noise roared all around them; quietly at first, then building up into a roar. Trip squeezed his eyes shut as he felt some part his consciousness separate and fade, as though he'd been split into two and was bidding the twin good-bye. It was an odd sensation, and he heard a definite voice drawl, _I'll take care of her, don't worry._

Trip wondered how the timeline readjusted as he and Malcolm popped in and out of universes. Did the "normal" versions of themselves just snap into existence, with full knowledge of what had happened during "their" absences? How much of their memories had been altered? Did their universes change again with their reappearance?

For that brief moment, his mind had touched his counterpart's as they made the switch. Trip thought back, _Thank you._

Reality snapped back around him. He managed to roll on his back as the air came back into his lungs with a violent start. He coughed and tried not to choke; a familiar warmth wrapped around him and eased the constriction around his chest.

"Good to see you too, Darlin'," he whispered. "Where were you?"

An image of a dark cloud filled his brain, then a bloom of color erupted from the center of it, before it was abruptly cut off, leaving it dark once more. Trip tried to recall where he'd seen it before. "Is that a wormhole? Some sort of subspace corridor?" At the TARDIS's confirmation, he asked, "You were actually stuck in one? That's why you couldn't get to us before now?"

She hummed agreement, then it scaled up in pitch. "Okay, lemme get up, at least. I feel like I've been gut-punched by a Tellarite. Damn-" He managed to push himself up to a sitting position, but every muscle ached. Trip closed his eyes against another surge of vertigo. "Ow. You all right, Malcolm?"

"I'm fine."

Trip opened his eyes at the hauntingly flat tone. Malcolm leaned heavily on the console with his back to Trip. He was trembling with the effort of staying upright.

"You don't look fine." Trip dragged himself to the TARDIS's console and nearly collapsed into the bucket seat. "Sit down before you fall down."

He expected Malcolm to ignore the order, so it surprised him when he sat down heavily on the floor and leaned against the base of the control panel with his eyes closed. Trip regarded him for several long moments.

"I had to leave her behind, Trip."

"You were dying, Malcolm. We both were." Even as he said it, he knew it was cold comfort. "You heard Doctor Lucas...we would've been dead in less than a week if we stayed there."

"She's carrying my child, Trip." Malcolm opened his eyes and Trip flinched at his expression. "Not my counterpart's. Mine. And I left her."

Trip turned his face away from the anguish in his friend's face. What could you say to something like that? There weren't any words to ease Malcolm's pain. He knew about having a child, then losing her forever. At least he had gotten to know Elizabeth; Malcolm would never know at all.

The TARDIS tingled in his mind, the warmth tinged with sorrowful regret. _Is there anything you can do for him? He doesn't deserve this. _Trip's heart ached in bitterness. _Dammit, this isn't fair. _He felt that warmth radiated outwards, and touch him and Malcolm.

And for the first time, her words were crystal clear. _Sleep, dream and forget._

"You sure this is a good idea?"

_It will be the best thing for him. He has left a part of him behind with her there...at least know that part of him will live in a world of peace._

He struggled to keep his eyes open against the wave of exhaustion. "But erasing his memory...and mine too? That-"

_You already carry too much of a burden, Trip. This is the curse of being a time traveler, being fated to know too much, and to remember too much. Some day, soon, he will re-experience this joy without the sorrow, and so will you._

"But-"

_Sleep now. Your journey is not yet over and you need the strength._

Trip managed to turn his head to see Malcolm still sitting on the floor, leaning against the TARDIS console, but his eyes were closed and his breathing easy. Trip fought against it as long as he could, but he felt consciousness slip away as if it was on a light breeze.

His last thought was, _Aw, hell, not again..._


	10. Interlude III: The Death Zone

Trip meets two of the Tenth Doctor's previous Companions, and more pieces of the Temporal puzzle fall into place. You find out the Doctor has been to Vulcan before. Sort of.

Spoilers: ENT "Shockwave I and II", "Storm Front I and II" The Suliban and Future Guy are knee-deep in this temporal mess.

DW: "The Doctor's Daughter" and the movie "The Five Doctors"

"Jenny" is the Tenth Doctor's biological daughter. Her character was played by Georgia Moffett, David Tennant's real-life wife.

Other Notes: The Death Zone was an area of Gallifrey where the Time Lords used people in 'The Game'. The object of The Game was to find the Tomb of Rassilon (or the Tower of Rassilon) and escape the Death Zone safely. There were mountains, marshes, thick mists, and complicated traps that made the Game deadly.

**Relative Time:**

**Infinity (∞) inside the Death Zone**

**somewhere in the chaos of the Universe**

"Oi, wake up, you! No laying about! Dunno what kinda schedule they put you on in the future, but snoozin' your life away isn't an option. I said, _wake up!"_

"Be gentle with him, Donna. He has no idea what's going on. How's your head, Charles? C'mon, open your eyes. I need to make sure you don't have a concussion."

The two voices had British accents. The first one was definitely more of a drawl, but the second voice's calmer undertone reminded Trip of Phlox's 'professional' demeanor in Sickbay. A medical doctor? He felt a gentle pair of hands help him move until he felt a solid wall behind his back. He managed to open his eyes a crack and immediately stared into a bright penlight.

"Hey! I'm awake! Get that damn thing out of my face!" He tried to push the offending object away, but the light dropped before his hand touched it.

"He's awake, Martha," Donna deadpanned. She put a supportive hand on his shoulder. "How's the head?"

"Awful. Feels like someone stuffed it into a bass drum and started beatin' on it."

The world came into abrupt focus. Trip carefully turned his head and surveyed his surroundings. They were in some sort of bubble? He frowned at the transparent energy field and the inky blackness beyond it. A slight vibration ran through the walls, like the one from the _Enterprise_'s warp core, but this one turned his stomach.

Trip leaned back and closed his eyes again. "Ow. I hurt all over."

"It's the negative ion field. It drains your energy and makes you feel weak and exhausted. A pretty effective cage." Martha placed the penlight in her pocket. "Head's the worst?"

"Yeah."

"It's one of the side effects of this place. Hold still." She put her hands on his shoulders and pressed down on the nerve points. It helped, but Trip still felt lousy. "That okay?"

"Yeah, a little." He opened his eyes and asked curiously, "Where'd you learn neuropressure?"

She chuckled, though the lines of strained exhaustion were clear on her face. He noticed her eyes were velvety brown, like liquid chocolate. "It wasn't from medical school. I pick up a few things here and there. Remember, the Vulcans didn't invent it."

Trip opened his mouth, thought better of it, then closed it. _Okay, the TARDIS has really stuck me someplace really weird now. _A twinge of memory sparked in his mind, but it faded before he could really be sure.

"Wait. You've been to Vulcan?"

"Yeah, just not...the one you know. We ended up there long before logic, back when they were all still fighting each other." Martha sighed and tugged at her jean jacket. "Long story short, I nearly got stabbed by their equivalent of a halberd."

Trip grimaced. Before Surak, T'Pol's people fought and slaughtered each other. If Martha had visited Vulcan before the _Kir'Shara_...he grimaced again. Maybe it was good that he and Malcolm hadn't ended up that far back in their pre-history. "They're called _lirpas_. Heard they're nasty things...though Malcolm would know more about 'em than I would. I build things, he blows 'em up. Wait...where's Malcolm?"

"Bomb Boy?" Donna chuckled and jerked a thumb in the direction of the emptiness beyond the bubble. "He's with Jenny. She's gonna take good care of him."

Trip's mouth quirked at her nickname for Malcolm; he had to admit it was appropriate. "Jenny?"

"His d-"

"She's a relative of the Doctor's," Martha interrupted, with a pointed look at Donna. "They're in the next floatin' bubble, having a bit of a chat."

He stared at his fellow prisoners. The one named Donna had shoulder-length red hair and wore a black shirt tucked into slacks. Martha was her complete opposite in size and stature: dark-skinned with a jean jacket over a red shirt and denims. Trip's eyes widened as recognition set in; he kicked himself for not noticing it earlier.

"I know you two! You're part of the TARDIS's crew!"

The dark-skinned woman flashed him a smile that reminded him so much of Travis Mayweather. "Really perceptive of you. I'm Martha Jones, and this is Donna Noble." The red-head nodded, her eyes sparkling with genuine humor.

"Pleased to meet you. Commander Charles Tucker the Third, chief engineer of the _Enterprise_, NX-01. My friends call me 'Trip'."

Donna grinned and shook his offered hand. Like Martha, she hid her nausea and pain under a smiling veneer. "'Trip', eh? And people think I come up with the weirdest nicknames. You avoid stairs and railings, then?"

He rolled his eyes at the tired joke. "Heard it before, Donna. And before you ask: Third Charles in the family, Triple, _Trip_. Got it?"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it." She smirked and crossed her arms. "Nice, short explanation there."

"You get used to the routine." His eyes strayed towards the empty space beyond the bubble; there was absolutely nothing, no reference points to orient himself, and although he could feel their movement, the lack of visual confirmation bothered him. "Where are we?"

"It's called the Death Zone and it lives up to its name. Just a dark Nothing, and no one's supposed to be able to escape from it. The operative word's 'supposed to'," said Martha.

"That's two words," Donna joked.

"Close enough." She reached over and tapped the transparent 'wall' of their bubble and sparks flew into the air around them. Trip jumped as one landed on his hand and shocked him.

Donna gave him an ironic smile. "Pretty nifty, eh?"

"Uh...yeah. Neat, as long as the bubble doesn't pop while we're in it." He tried to sit up straighter, but decided to keep as still as possible. "Now...will someone please tell me what the hell's goin' on? Is your entire crew stuck here in this Death Zone?"

Donna ticked off the names on her fingers. "As far as I can figure out, there's Martha, me, Jenny, probably more Companions we don't know about..."

"Plus the four from Torchwood..."

Trip didn't know the people mentioned, or what a 'Companion' was, but he sat up straighter at the familiar name. "Torchwood? Hold on...you know Captain James Harper?"

Donna rolled her eyes. "His name's not Harper. It's Harkness, and he's her boss. Was. Sort of."

"Jack Harkness! Dammit, I knew it! I knew it was him!" His shout startled both women and they both involuntarily flinched. "He saved my life on Risa and got killed in the process."

Donna blinked in shock. "He's dead?"

He swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat. "Yeah."

"But..." Donna seemed to be in genuine shock. "He can't be dead! He's larger than life, he's-"

"Yeah."

Martha reached over and put a comforting hand on his arm, her eyes compassionate, but she seemed oddly calm, considering the news that her boss was dead. "I'm sorry, Trip. We didn't know."

Trip frowned at her strange reaction. He recalled the information about the multiple 'James Harper's from the TARDIS database, then his mind made a completely illogical leap. "He isn't really dead, is he?"

Martha heaved a big sigh. "It's not my place to explain this one, and I'm a medical doctor. Ask him the next time you see him."

He clamped down a surge of frustration, but another wave of nausea overcame him. Martha pressed on the neural nodes in his back and shoulders again, while Donna murmured soothing noises. Trip heard a slight humming sound, similar to one of Phlox's medical tricorders. He managed to raise his head to see Martha frowning at a glowing screen in her hand.

"Easy...our 'cage' can detect extreme changes of emotion, like sadness or anger. It reflects it back on us and makes us feel even worse," Donna whispered. "Try to calm down, Cowboy."

Martha chuckled and shook her head. "Emulate your Vulcan girlfriend."

"Hey! She's not my girlfriend-" Trip clamped his mouth shut again, but it was too late. "How the hell do you know about that?"

"Whoa, Cowboy." Donna's mouth quirked into a sly smile. "Methinks you're protesting too much."

He glared at her as he tried the ignore the surge of hope in his chest. Donna just gazed at him with smirk that resembled Malcolm's on a good day. Despite himself, he started laughing. She couldn't keep the saucy expression and also dissolved into laughter. Trip realized their laughter had a tinge of genuine madness, but he didn't care. Martha grinned like an idiot, though she managed to keep from chortling herself.

"Good to hear you laugh," she said, her face becoming sober. "We were starting to get worried about you and your friend. Some people don't take very well to traveling through time and space. I guess it helps that you've done it before by accident. The Doctor chooses his Companions carefully."

Trip shook his head and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. "The Doc didn't choose us, not really. We ended up with his TARDIS-"

"The TARDIS picked you up, all by herself?" Donna asked. "That's...weird. I thought she doesn't do that, Martha."

"Not usually, but she does have a mind of her own. It means she's functioning independently of the Doctor, which means-"

Donna's smile fell and her eyes became worried. "Spaceman's in big trouble."

"Spaceman? The one with the glasses and the red sneakers?" Despite their situation, Trip chuckled under his breath. "You got a nickname for everyone?"

Donna's hand tightened on his shoulder. "You've got to listen and listen carefully. You and your mate aren't really here...somehow the TARDIS sent you to where we are. We're stuck in, well, wherever this bloody place is. All of us. And you've got to get us out before we all get too weak to do it."

Trip looked pointedly at the walls of the 'bubble' and the cold darkness beyond them. "How are we gonna do that?"

Martha took up the explanation. "Whoever took us wants to control every single possible universe and he's doing it slowly, one by one. I think he tried to take yours, but your crew stopped him. Now he's mad and he's going to try again."

He tried to make sense of her words. "My crew? You mean the _Enterprise_ crew?"

Donna's expression darkened even further, her mouth tight. Trip resisted the urge to shrink back, even if he was already pressed against the 'wall'. It was like an oncoming storm, just barely kept in check. Trip had the feeling that Donna Noble was one of those 'silent means very bad trouble' types.

"He's got these little men who look like sandstone figures, all crackly and odd looking, with glowing eyes. One of 'em yanked me right out of the TARDIS, and nothing's supposed to get in without the Doctor's permission!"

Martha nodded and added, "They're able to blend into their surroundings so you can't see 'em. That's how they were able to snatch me right out of the Torchwood Hub without anyone seeing-"

"Wait!" He held up a hand and everything finally fell into place. "You're talking about the Suliban!"

"Who?" Donna demanded as she gave his shoulder a gentle shake. "The Suli-what?"

"Suliban." He quickly recounted how the Suliban had hijacked the _Enterprise_, and how Captain Archer managed to contact them from the 31st century and how the Suliban's mysterious benefactor was finally defeated after _Enterprise_ returned from an alternate 1941. Neither Donna nor Martha seemed surprised at the completely absurd story. In fact, they looked rather sympathetic.

Donna cocked her head at him and asked, "I take it you've never told your superiors about this?"

"It's all classified. I'm not sure if the Cap'n ever told the Starfleet brass about it."

Martha chuckled and gave him a wide smile. "If he did, I'm sure they probably thought it some sort of post-traumatic stress hallucination of some sort."

"The entire crew?"

"Why not? A mass hallucination? Something in the water? The best retcon is the 'you dreamed it all in the shower' excuse."

"Retcon?" Trip had the feeling they were crossing circuits, talking about things that went way over each other's heads. "Never mind. I don't wanna know. But how're we gonna do this? Even the Cap'n didn't find out who Silik's boss actually was."

"Future Guy thinks Humans are as dumb as rocks," Donna said abruptly, "and he thought that if he takes away all the help, you won't know what to do. That's why he decided to stuff us all in this wherever-it-is and throw away the key. But I don't think he expected you and Bomb Boy to be as successful as you've been."

"You mean fixin' up the timelines?" Trip smirked, despite himself.

Donna matched the smirk. "Yeah, you really bollixed up his plans. Once you fix 'em, he can't touch 'em. So...keep doin' what you're doin and you'll keep kicking his bloody arse."

Martha sighed and rolled her eyes as if praying for patience. "In a nutshell, that's what the Doctor managed to tell us before he went missing. Donna and I think Future Guy-" she winced at the nickname, but went on, "-locked him up somewhere, so he can't save the universe."

"So it's up to me and Malcolm." Trip sighed and rubbed his temples again. Now he noticed a tightening in his chest, as if his heart literally ached. "Great. The more timelines we change, the closer we get to Future Guy, and the closer we get to the Doctor, right?"

Donna beamed at Martha. "See? He's a smart bloke."

Their cage shuddered and slowly began to descend deeper into the blackness. Trip frowned as he saw a planetary surface materialize directly below them. The rugged mountains in the distance towered over a string of marshes and sheer cliffs. A paved road cut through the marshes; its ragged edges slowly crumbled into the boggy ground.

"Looks like we're landin'," he murmured, "and I don't like the look of where we're endin' up."

"There's only one road out of there," Donna whispered, "and it cuts through those bogs. Ugh, we're gonna have to wade through that mucky mess."

Martha pointed at a tall spire in the distance. "Is that...a tower?"

Trip shaded his eyes from a sickly yellow glow on the horizon. The tower jutted out like a shard of poisonous glass, high up into the black sky. Huge walls made of the same glass-like material rose around it, cut in an irregular pattern. From their vantage point, he made out gravel paths among the walls.

"Reminds me of a maze," he murmured. "Some sort of spooky maze and the tower's in the middle."

"You mean we're gonna have to follow the road to the maze, then get through the maze to the tower? Seems pretty straightforward."

Martha shook her head. "Yeah, but nothing is as straightforward as it seems. I bet the maze is loaded with nasty traps and hidden surprises."

"We're like rats," Donna tightened her lips again. "Lovely."

The bubble continued to descend until the maze sank from view. He glanced down to see the paved road coming up fast. "Brace yourselves! We're gonna touch down!"

Just as the forcefield touched ground, it cut out and the three of them ended up falling on the road. Trip managed to tuck and roll, so he ended up on his back instead of his head. Donna cursed as she rubbed her right knee, and Martha brushed gravel off her face.

"Everyone okay?"

"Yeah, I think so, Cowboy." Donna grimaced as she stood up and tested her right leg. "Nothing serious, as long as I don't run any marathons any time soon."

Martha nodded in agreement. "None the worse for wear. Looks like we got dumped right between two bogs."

Trip shivered at the cold mist that rose all around them. It reminded him of the one time he visited the Scottish moors...in February. Chilly, damp and generally unpleasant. Eerie sounds echoed around him: human-like wails and whispers among the stones.

"We'd better get movin'. If anythin', it'll keep us from catchin' hypothermia-" He frowned as he realize the mist had thickened all around him. "Donna? Martha? Hey, where'd you go? Guys?"

_The Death Zone,_ the mist whispered, _if you want to save them, you must find your own path._

"What?" he yelled. "I don't have time for riddles!"

_Find your own path, seek your own destiny. Either you travel the road by yourself, cold and alone...or you travel with companions and share the load. The darkness. Use the light within and the warmth with-out from those you trust, and you will save them._

He felt a wave of dizziness and knew the TARDIS was pulling him back to safety. Trip knew he had to find the Suliban and their leader before it was too late. Wherever the Suliban was, he'd find the Doctor as well.

The women's voices were was rapidly fading in the mist. "Stay strong, Trip. We'll see you later, okay?"

"Yeah, and tell Bomb Boy you guys aren't alone."

"What? I don't understand-"

But they were already gone, and so was he.


	11. He Flies through Space with Ease

Trip finally figures out how to fly the TARDIS...sort of. He and Malcolm need to save Lorian's _Enterprise_ from destruction from the Kovaalans. This chapter is heavy on the TnT (plus Lorian). And the TARDIS has wiped their memories of their last adventure, so as far as they're concerned, it never happened. (Though we know better).

Spoilers: "E²", "Terra Prime", "These are the Voyages". And here is my theory on why The Abomination (also known as "These are the Voyages...the last so-called 'Valentine' to the fans. Yeah, right) makes completely no sense at all.

**Time Relative to Enterprise (January 1, 2156)**

**February 2154**

**(-2 years, 1 month)**

_Thy'la?_

Trip stirred restlessly at the familiar voice, but he didn't understand it. His mind and body were still lost in a fog that seemed to weigh down every thought. He struggled to open his eyes, but it was like swimming upstream in syrup. "Wha-?" he slurred.

_Is that really you? It is not logical...you cannot be here..._

A jolt of surprise slammed into him. His eyes snapped open at the maelstorm of emotions that poured into him. Disbelief, wonder, hope, grief. They swirled all around him and paralyzed him to the spot. They were so powerful that he was nearly lost within them. Vulcan emotions were nearly their undoing. They nearly destroyed themselves, is Surak hadn't intervened. Trip was now on the receiving end of them and he struggled to extricate himself out of the chaos. He imagined a blue light all around him, grabbed it and pulled himself up.

Trip sat up abruptly to find himself in his bedroom aboard the TARDIS. How did he end up back in here? What happened? He tried to remember, but the images were fuzzy, as if taken with a bad camera.

_Ashayam! Trip! Help us!_

"T'Pol?"

He shot out of bed and nearly broke down the door on his way to the control room. The glass column in the center of the console shone brightly like a beacon. Trip glanced over the various buttons and levers, all tagged with their functions. A blinking screen caught his attention and he pulled it towards him for a closer look.

"Trip? What's going on?" Malcolm demanded as he stumbled down the spiral staircase. Like Trip, he was dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt, his hair stuck up in impossible angles, as if he'd slept in a Van de Graph generator.

"Dunno, but I dreamed I heard T'Pol cryin' out for help," Trip said, as he narrowed his eyes at the unfamiliar hieroglyphs on the screen. The sense of disorientation steadily grew in time with his alarm. He glanced at Malcolm. "You sleep okay?"

Malcolm shook his head and replied, "I woke up in the library, with Ulysses and a cup of tea on the table next to me. I don't remember it, but I must have went there to read and fell asleep."

Trip frowned. "You too, huh? What is the last thing you remember?"

He thought for a long moment, then answered with a straight face, "Risa."

A grin split Trip's face. "No wonder you can't remember anythin' after that. You still owe me an explanation of what happened to you and Hoshi over there."

Malcolm didn't quite roll his eyes, but he only said, "In due time, Commander. Now...where are we?"

"I have no idea what this is tryin' to tell me-" Trip frowned as he tapped the letters. "What language is this, Darlin'? I don't suppose you can translate this into English, can you?"

The walls shuddered once, twice, three times. Trip grabbed the edge of the console as the screen flashed and resolved into a dark starfield with colored dots. The TARDIS was a blue box amid yellow stars. Two of those dots were green, but there were many more red dots swarming around them.

"It's a tactical grid!" Malcolm said. "It appears we've stumbled into the middle of an attack."

"Who's bein' attacked and who are the attackers?" Trip climbed into the bucket seat and looked over the mess of controls. _C'mon, Darlin', give me somethin' to work with here! At least some sorta flight manual!_

A set of blinking red lights next to a bank of switches began to hum loudly. He automatically reached out and grabbed the switches and yanked them down. The TARDIS shuddered and changed directions. Malcolm's eyes widened as the tactical grid changed significantly.

"One of the green dots just made a one-hundred and eighty degree turn, back towards the attackers. The second is continuing on its original course."

"They're going on a suicide run. How about we even the odds?"

"The TARDIS doesn't have any weapons, Commander-"

_Trip, we are in danger! Help us!_

"T'Pol!" Trip reached out for her purely out of instinct, caught and held her close. "It's okay; I'm comin'!"

Her mind was a unique signature, one he'd felt before, during the Xindi Mission and afterward, with baby Elizabeth. The thought of the Xindi Mission caused a pang deep within his heart, but he shoved it away and concentrated on the thread of T'Pol's thoughts. Yes, it was her, but...not her. There were memories entwined between them, events that Trip knew he had never experienced.

In his mind's eye, he saw her in her darkened quarters, but it wasn't the woman he saw every day on his _Enterprise. _He fumbled the connection and nearly lost it. The wrinkles, the gray hair, the stooped frame...where had this old woman come from? T'Pol was supposed to live for another century, survive everyone on the ship, even Phlox.

The woman lifted her head as the room shuddered around her in the wake of phaser blasts. Trip gazed directly into the amber-brown eyes and knew he would recognize her anywhere. The corners of her mouth turned up in a radiant smile. His mouth dropped open at the blatant show of emotion. Where was the stiff Vulcan control?

The dark shadows of the attacking ships shimmered in the duraglass window of T'Pol's quarters. _Kovalaans_, she told him. _We need to buy the other _Enterprise_..._your Enterprise_...time._

The pieces of the puzzle fell into place. Trip's stomach clenched as he finally realized what was happening..._The other _Enterprise_...Lorian's ship. This is the ship that was thrown into the past, which means that other green dot is...us! The ship that made it Degra's meeting... _Lorian's ship never made it out of the corridor. Trip had never known what had happened to his son and his crew. Now he knew...but he was determined to change it this time.

"She's on one of those ships?" Malcolm demanded. He tapped several buttons on the tactical grid and more information scrolled along the right side of it, this time in English. "Commander, it's _Enterprise_ out there...wait, two of them! We're-"

"That's Lorian's ship and ours, when we were in The Expanse."

Malcolm narrowed his eyes at the screen. "I knew those raiders looked familiar. Bloody hell! I wish we had a phase cannon or a couple of torpedoes-" The control room dropped straight "down", nearly knocking him off his feet. "Damn it, Trip-!"

"Sorry. I get the impression the TARDIS doesn't do a lot of her own flyin'. It's like tryin' to steer a sailboat usin' a toothpick for a rudder-" He scowled as he reached for a rubber mallet and smacked a wheel-like contraption that stuck out of one side of the console. "There, that'll help."

"How?" Malcolm pressed a hand on the console to steady himself.

"I think I figured out why the steerin' so cranky," Trip murmured, but his mind was already two steps ahead. "Keep an eye on that plot and lemme know where everyone is relative to each other."

He saw, without actually seeing, the Kovalaan ships that surrounded Lorian's _Enterprise_, and directed the TARDIS in that direction. The raiders didn't expect to see a tiny blue box dead in their sights and scrambled to avoid a collision.

"They're regrouping," Malcolm reported tersely. "Two are coming after us, the other five are still locked on their primary target-"

Trip's hands moved automatically on the TARDIS controls, slapping buttons, switches, crossing wires, and manipulating slides. He simply followed the strange inner promptings from deep within his gut._ Hang on, T'Pol! Let Lorian know we're gonna help! _He switched his train of thought to the TARDIS. _Show me what I gotta do to save 'em!_

Energy surged from the console and into Trip's hands. He reached over and punched several buttons in sequence, then slapped some sort of bell. His eyes passed over the various slides and wires before he realized that what he needed was on the far side of the column. "Why the hell are all the useful stuff all so far apart from each other?" he muttered under his breath. "Malcolm...third button on the left, next to the typewriter carriage. Hit that down for me?"

"What?" Malcolm found the button, but it wouldn't go all the way down. He ended up mashing it with his fist. A warning light sputtered and died. He kept his gaze on the action on the tactical plot. "I think they're trying to box in their prey-"

"Like a pack of wolves."

"They're closing on Lorian's ship at high speed, Trip. If we approach them from here-" he jabbed a finger on the screen, "-we can disrupt their attack run."

Trip nodded. "All right, let's do it." He turned several dials as far to the right as they could go. "Malcolm, kick the panel right under your console. Power's a bit sluggish on that side."

He muttered some choice expletives under his breath, but did as Trip asked. The TARDIS bucked like a bronco and tipped forward nearly forty-five degrees. Malcolm nearly landed on his face against the control column, but Trip stayed in the bucket seat as if glued there. The TARDIS streaked directly between two Kovalaan raiders, came within meters of clipping a third's nacelle, and the fourth tumbled in the TARDIS's wake and nearly ran into the fifth raider.

"The Kovalaans just scored another direct hit on the future _Enterprise_'s starboard nacelle. Shielding on that side went down." Malcolm reported grimly. "They can't take another hit there."

"Now we know why they never made it out of the corridor."

T'Pol screamed directly into his mind. _Trip, the Bridge has been hit! Lorian-_

He fought down a surge of panic at her words. _Is he all right?_

The silence stretched on for so long that Trip feared Lorian had died and T'Pol with him. Finally, she answered, _He is uninjured, but he is the only one left...Karyn and the others..._

"Lorian's the only one left on the Bridge. Karyn Archer's dead. We've got to stop this now!" He met Malcolm's gaze from across the control column and the Armory officer nodded. "Think we can wipe out the Kovalaans with one explosion?"

"As much power as the TARDIS is using right now...I'm sure of it." His mouth twitched in humor. "She's not objecting to your blowing her up to kingdom come."

"I think she knows it's time." Trip managed a smile. "Let's kick the door open and go out in style, Malcolm."

"Agreed, sir." He turned his attention back to the tactical screen. "The Kovalaans are gathering again for the killing blow-"

"Hang on, here we go..."

A jagged crack of light erupted from the space directly in front of the TARDIS. Trip wrenched the controls to the right, putting every fiber of his being into the movement. He heard T'Pol's cry out his name, then the connection snapped with a fury that physically slammed him back into the bucket seat.

Spots of blackness danced behind his eyes, but he managed to keep from passing out. A familiar wave of warmth flowed into his fingertips and spread over the rest of his body. It was as if he was floating in the warm water of the library pool. He relaxed into it and allowed it to wash over him.

_Father_? _Is that really you?_

Trip narrowed his eyes at the figure who stepped out of the white curtain around him. "Lorian?"

"Hello, Father." Lorian gave him the slight smile that reminded Trip so much of T'Pol. He wore the green vest over gray overalls, but it was smudged with soot and burned in places. "It's good to see you again. I knew you'd come back to help us."

"I had to." Trip couldn't speak past the lump in his throat. "You guys all right? Your mom-I heard her-"

"I am here." Her soft voice startled him. He looked over his shoulder and saw her. She was older, with gray in her short-cropped hair and crow's feet at the corners of her eyes, but nowhere as ancient as he'd originally saw her. T'Pol walked forward and extended two fingers to him. He immediately met it with his own two fingers. The love that surged between them took his breath away.

"I-" He swallowed hard and tried again. "Hey, Darlin'."

"Hello, Trip. I've missed you so much." She raised her hand and placed it on his cheek. He felt her conflicting emotions as if they were his own, doubled and magnified. He tried to reassure her, but his own uncertainty derailed his effort.

"Yeah, me too."

"This is not possible...how can you-"

"It's complicated. I'm not even gonna begin to explain it-"

Lorian raised an eyebrow and deadpanned, "It appears that 'complicated' is quite the understatement."

He smirked. "You're just like your mom, you know that?"

Lorian took the compliment in stride. "And she says I'm just like you."

"Are we all dead, and in some sort of weird afterlife together?" Trip didn't feel dead, but as he had learned, that wasn't a valid measuring point anymore.

She shook her head, then gently asked, "Do you remember what happened after your _Enterprise_ exited the corridor?"

He frowned and searched his memory. "I still remember the meeting with Degra, and Hoshi bein' kidnapped, and...so that still happened? But I'm seein' flashes of _Enterprise_ and Jupiter Station, and a colony and the Xindi weapon...so different timelines?"

Lorian chuckled and put a hand on his shoulder. Trip felt it: solid, real and alive. "We're still here, still within your memories, and within the crew's. As long we're alive, you'll all still remember us. In one timeline, we managed to join your _Enterprise_. In another, our trip through the corridor put us in another place and time, but in safety."

"So...that's why we didn't forget you when we reached our meeting with Degra. History didn't completely change...because we didn't want to let you go."

T'Pol nodded. "You saved us, _ashayam_, in a manner of speaking. When we emerge from our corridor, we will be safe, wherever we are. And when the time is right, we will all be together again."

Trip let out a sigh he didn't know he was holding. He closed his eyes and immersed himself in the marriage bond, reveling in the feeling of being completely joined to her, body, spirit and mind. It was nothing like he'd every experienced...it paled in comparison to the tenuous tie he currently had with his T'Pol, weakened by the death of Elizabeth.

Without the bond, they would all die. Trip caught a glimpse of still another timeline, where their relationship had fallen apart and it all ended with his senseless death. That led to an unraveling of the universe, with glaring changes that rang false to Trip:

_How can you get through ten years without a single damn promotion? And who is that guy in the Galley...that's not the Chef I remember! And what the hell was I thinking, blowing myself up like that?_

His conversation with Donna Noble and Martha Jones came back to him in a rush. _The more you correct the timelines, the more you kick Future Guy's arse, to borrow someone else's vernacular._ _When you fix the timelines, he can't touch them. _Trip understood.

"Somehow I knew something was wrong, even if I wasn't conscious of it at the time." Trip stared at his hands, unmarred by third-degree electrical burns. "When Shran's associates managed to board _Enterprise_ and get past Malcolm's security...the universe was already unraveling and not making sense. Future Guy had already gotten too much power and he ended up winnin' in the end."

T'Pol nodded in agreement, but Lorian narrowed his eyes. "Future Guy?"

"Before your time, son. Let's just say he's someone with delusions of grandeur that needs a good ass-kickin'." So Future Guy was tampering with what amounted to Trip's future. This Temporal War held a more personal significance for him now.

Lorian laughed at the unexpected humor, even as T'Pol winced at the language. "Ah, I see. In that case, I'm sure you will give it to him. You and Uncle Malcolm."

"Damn straight." He took a deep breath and gazed down at his...wife? Yes, it was possible, and Trip hoped it would happen in his universe. The knowledge erased the nagging heaviness in his chest and he was able to breathe freely again.

"It will happen, if you allow it," T'Pol whispered. She smiled up at him, the smile meant for him alone. "Look for us within your mind and we will be there, _ashayam._ Both of us."

Trip looked up at his son. "Take care of your mom, okay?"

"I shall." Lorian gently put his hand on T'Pol's arm, and she reluctantly dropped her own hand from Trip's face. The mental contact lessened, but didn't disappear. "This is only 'See you later', Father, not 'goodbye'."

Trip swallowed another lump in his throat as he gazed at them. "Yeah. See you both later."

Lorian nodded at him and T'Pol smiled, before they faded from sight. This time, Trip actually felt something shift into its correct place. At that moment, he knew that they were getting closer to their goal: Future Guy and the Doctor.

A brief spell of dizziness came over him, then he found himself back in the bucket seat of the TARDIS. His head snapped over to Malcolm. "Hey, you okay?"

Malcolm started in surprise, then snapped his head around to look at him. "What happened?"

"I dunno." He stared at the console in wonder. "I've never done that kind of fancy flyin'. The Cap'n and Travis are the pilots, not me. I'm just the engineer."

"Whatever you did, it worked. I'm not reading any Kovalaan ships on the TARDIS sensors and it looks like we're back in some sort of time corridor of our own." Malcolm put a hand on the glowing column. "Did we save Lorian and his crew?"

"I'm pretty sure we did, and we just set another timeline right." He blew out a relieved sigh and sagged back in the bucket seat. "Not bad, considerin' I haven't had my mornin' coffee yet."

Malcolm stared at him, then chuckled. "In that case, we'll need to correct that right away before the adrenaline wears off. Besides, we need to figure out what just went on."

"No arguments there, Malcolm." Trip hauled himself out of the bucket seat, feeling sore and battered as if he'd gone several rounds with an Andorian. "C'mon. I need that caffeine before we face whatever comes next."


	12. Even Bicycles Come with Instructions

Malcolm reveals what happened on Risa. The two expand on the Schroedinger's Cat (or in this case, Schroedinger's Sehlat) theory. The TARDIS gives a partial explanation of why Trip and Malcolm were "chosen" out of the _Enterprise_ crew.

Spoilers: ENT: "Two Days and Two Nights", E², Shockwave I and II, Countdown

DW: "Journey's End" The Doctor Who Movie (1996), "Amy's Choice"

"Journey's End" reveals that the TARDIS was built for six pilots to fly her, but the when the Doctor fled Gallifrey, he was the only one who knew enough to do it. The Tenth Doctor needed all his current and former companions to fly the TARDIS to save Earth in "Journey's End."

The ivy-covered corridors are called Cloisters. The Cloisters lead to the Cloister Room, which is where the TARDIS's engine is (the Eye of Harmony). You don't see the Cloister Room until the 1996 Doctor Who Movie and the Eighth Doctor (Paul McGann). Seeing directly into the Eye of Harmony can be hazardous to your temporal health.

The "TARDIS Flight Manual" was first discovered by Romana, one of the Fourth Doctor (Tom Baker)'s companions. Peri (a friend of the Sixth Doctor, Colin Baker) found it, propping open a vent. The Eleventh Doctor (Matt Smith) said he eventually threw it into a supernova because he disagreed with it in "Amy's Choice".

* * *

Trip leaned back in one of the kitchen chairs and pressed his hands around the steaming mug of coffee. Malcolm crossed his arms with a thoughtful look and leaned against the edge of the counter. Both men were silent as the tea kettle began to sing. Malcolm poured himself a cup of the hot water and left the tea to steep until it was ready. Trip used the moment to collect his thoughts.

"So...you actually felt T'Pol and Lorian and you knew they were in trouble. Since we intervened with the TARDIS, they survived their battle with the Kovalaans, but they ended up somewhere else in the universe."

"That's why we still remembered them when we got back to our own time. They were still alive, somewhere." Trip took a deep breath and added, "I always wondered about that, why they simply weren't erased from our memories after we made it to Degra's rendezvous."

Malcolm made a face. "Time travel makes things more complicated than it should."

"No kiddin'. I'm tryin' not to analyze it too closely because I'll just give myself a headache." He shook his head, then reached for the coffee pot on the table. "And don't ask me how I managed to fly the TARDIS. I have no idea. It was as if somethin' had taken over my body, and knew exactly which buttons to push."

"Perhaps the TARDIS felt your sense of panic and urgency, since it concerned your loved ones. She helped you in whatever way she could at the time."

Trip looked up at the ceiling. "Thanks, Darlin'." He felt a gentle warmth and a sense of _You're welcome_. He smiled and shook his head. "I don't get how the crew's able to get by on one pilot. The console's too damn big. You'd have to run circles around it to get to all the controls."

"Maybe the TARDIS needs more than one pilot on duty at the same time? The console's divided into six panels, around the central column."

"Six pilots? Cross-trainin' makes sense, then...in case someone gets sick or kicks the bucket or somethin'. But that still sounds like a pain." Trip paused and took a sip of his coffee. "Another thing I've noticed...we've gotten more access to the ship systems now. We should go back and see what we can figure out-"

"Agreed. At least I can decipher what the exterior scanners are trying to tell me." Malcolm finished his tea."We should get back to the control room."

Trip raised a hand to stop him. "Just a sec, Malcolm. We've got some unfinished business to take care of."

Malcolm raised an eyebrow. "Unfinished business?"

He grinned and reached for the coffee pot. "You know, you never told me how you managed to hook up with Hoshi on Risa. C'mon...I told you what happened to me and Cap'n Harper. Your turn."

Malcolm flushed crimson. "I need more tea. Just a moment, Commander."

Trip hid a smile as he busied himself with the teapot. "It's not 'Commander', Malcolm, it's 'Trip'. I'm askin' as a friend, not as your superior officer. You can choose to tell me as much or as little as you want."

He sighed and took a seat at the table, directly opposite Trip. "But you'll still pester me for the details like a stubborn bull terrier. I might as well get this over with now."

"I'm hurt, Malcolm. I'm not stubborn. I'm persistent."

The Englishman pulled a face, then took a sip of fresh tea. "The TARDIS left you on that street so abruptly that I didn't have time to react. She transported to the alleyway behind the hotel, that first night of our shore leave. I did some searching and I found her on the hotel's patio. She was having dinner with a man named Ravis."

_Oh, hell. I hope Malcolm didn't pound him into the dirt. _"Ravis? Someone she just met?"

"I assume so. I overheard some of their conversation..."

"You eavesdropped on them. Malcolm, shame on you. Who are you, James Bond?" Malcolm winced, despite the fact that Trip had said it in a teasing tone. He took pity and said, "Sorry. I won't interrupt again."

"Thank you. Anyway, they were comparing languages, so I assumed this Ravis was another linguist. I nearly walked back out to the TARDIS when I saw how he was looking at her."

Trip promptly forgot his promise not to interrupt. "Ouch. You didn't actually walk out, did you?"

Malcolm smirked and replied, "I didn't have to. Another woman stepped on the patio and spotted him with Hoshi. She was...not amused."

Trip nearly choked on his coffee; this was getting good. "Wife? Mistress? Sister? Keeper?"

Malcolm laughed and sipped his tea. "I don't know, but the look she gave Ravis could have melted pure duranium. The whole situation was odd and absurd at the same time. I acted as if I'd just come to the scene and was concerned about Hoshi's safety. Of course, Ravis was trying to explain the whole thing, and Hoshi looked ready to throw him into the pool at that point."

"She should've. I'm surprised she didn't."

"The entire affair brought the attention of hotel security, for Ravis's companion was screaming at him in a high-pitched, rambling language. The patrons were leaving in droves to spare their eardrums." Malcolm sipped his tea with a smirk. "So security removed both of them from the premises."

Trip grinned as he imagined the scene. "Hoshi was all right?"

"Aside from a ringing of her ears, she was unharmed. Just embarrassed. We ended up chatting at the bar, shared a few drinks..." Malcolm cleared his throat. "The rest is history, so to speak."

Trip's smile widened and he made a futile attempt to hide it behind his coffee mug. "She got you to admit your feelings for her, and she returned them. Damn, she really did practice some new conjugations, didn't she?"

The Armory Officer blushed fiercely, but didn't deny it. "Let's just say she's full of surprises, and I will never underestimate her again."

"About damn time, Malcolm." He chose not to tell Malcolm what he had seen through the courtyard gate that following morning.

"I was a fool not to consider certain possibilities earlier, yes."

"At least you admit it now."

Malcolm's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Infinite universes and infinite possibilities. If I'd joined Hoshi in our universe, instead of going to that bar and ending up tied up in a basement with you-"

Trip laughed and made a rude gesture with his free hand. "Hey now! Neither of us knew they were shapeshifters who ended up robbin' us bare. Uh...almost bare."

"But it still happened, in our universe. That's why we still remember that night in the basement, even though you also remember Captain Harper and I remember the altercation with Ravis."

"Yeah, I still remember both of 'em. That's weird. I guess time-traveling changes your way of seein' things."

Malcolm frowned as he thought aloud, "There's still a universe where Captain Harper is still alive, but you aren't. And one where he survived being struck with the energy whip and both of you ended up spending the night courtesy of the Risan authorities."

Trip shook his head; the possibility that Harper-or Jack Harkness- was still alive somewhere eased the sense of guilt at his death at the hands of Krem. "That's a comfort, at least. It's mind-bending, but still a comfort."

Malcolm stared into the depths of his tea-cup, as if trying to read a possible future. "And there are two universes on Vulcan: the one where we saved T'Pol's sehlat, and the one where the sehlat didn't survive his encounter with the _le-matya_. They co-exist next to each other and neither one cancels the other. Normally we wouldn't remember the other branch, but since we're observers out of time, we do."

"Ugh. Schrodinger's cat, or sehlat in this case." It was a while since Trip had worked with advanced quantum physics and he tried to remember the details. "Like there's a universe where I didn't return from _Columbia_, or T'Pol never served on _Enterprise_, or-"

Malcolm's mouth twitched. "Or I joined the Royal Navy instead of Starfleet. Or the Spanish Armada won, or Nelson was never born. The possibilities are endless."

"Or the Xindi never attacked Earth." Trip closed his eyes in pain. "There's gotta be a universe where Lizzie's alive and safe." _Just not mine. But at least I know she's alive and well __**somewhere.**_ The thought was bittersweet, but a blanket of warmth eased the pain, just a little. _Thanks, Darlin'. I needed that._

"Yes." Malcolm's voice became hushed. "All of time and space...where would you start?"

"If everything's possible, then why do we have to go and fix things so certain things happen?" Trip opened his eyes and saw Malcolm's smirk. "What?"

"You didn't take statistics in university, did you?"

Trip scowled. "Hell yeah, I did. I hated every minute of it too."

"It's probabilities. If one event happened in a majority of the universes...it could influence the rest of them. I presume that's why Daniels was so obsessed with making sure Captain Archer didn't fall into Suliban hands, or saving him when the Xindi Superweapon blew up."

Trip thought about that, then slowly nodded. "Makes sense. So...savin' the universe, one little piece at a time. That's a lot of power to have. What's that old saw...'with great power comes great responsibility'."

"Indeed." Malcolm's face was sober. "It's not one to be taken lightly. It definitely puts Daniels, Harper, the Doctor, and the others in a new light, doesn't it?"

"And now we're in that exclusive club. The question becomes, why us? Why were we chosen?" Trip raised his eyes to the ceiling. "You know, Darlin', I never did ask you that, didn't I? So...why me and Malcolm? Why not the Cap'n or Hoshi or even Travis?"

_Because you are both special._

Trip jumped at the unexpected words. A quick glance at Malcolm confirmed that he'd heard it too. "'Scuse me? What do you mean, 'special'?"

_You see wonders within the mechanical, and he sees wonders within the soul of people. It was no accident of the universe that you were destined to meet and become the other's mirror._

"Mirror?" Malcolm asked. "I don't understand."

Trip cocked his head to the side, but the TARDIS was silent once more. "I think that's all she's willin' to tell us right now."

"Riddles and more riddles. Now I'mgetting a headache."

Trip looked at the refrigerator and was tempted to snatch Captain Harkness's bottles of Guinness, despite the warning note. At the end, he decided that being sober on this trip was probably the best thing.

"You're an engineer...so you'd 'be able to see wonders within the mechanical'."

"And accordin' to the TARDIS, you 'see wonders within the souls of people'."

Malcolm sighed and finished his tea. "No, I can't. I'm not a people person, like Hoshi is."

"You'd be surprised, Malcolm." Trip ticked off the reasons on his fingers. "You're trained as a security officer, so you notice stuff other people don't. You listen to your instincts and zero in on trouble before anyone else even knows it's there. And how many times have you been right, even if the Cap'n thinks otherwise?"

"Too many times to count," he muttered. "Sorry, Trip, I know Captain Archer is your friend-"

"He's my friend, but he isn't Superman. Jon's got his faults just like everyone else." Trip leaned back in his seat with a frown. "And ever since the Expanse, we haven't been as...close as we used to be."

"I've noticed. The Expanse has changed him, and you."

Trip sighed and regarded his coffee cup. At least the nightmares about his sister and the Xindi weapon had finally eased. The thought reminded him that he'd been having some weird dreams lately. If only he could remember half of them!

"You know, speakin' of Daniels...it's strange that we haven't seen him yet, considerin' this time-travelin' thing..."

Malcolm frowned. "Are you sure we haven't? I keep getting the feeling that we already might have, or that he's just about to pop around the corner."

"You sure that isn't your usual paranoia at work?"

"If anything involves Daniels and time-travel, wouldn't you be a bit paranoid too?"

Trip opened his mouth, then closed it again as he considered the words. "You know, you're right, especially now that we know Future Guy—and probably the Suliban—are mixed up with this too. Unfortunately, we don't know where Future Guy is right now...but I bet who does know."

"The Doctor and he's gone missing."

"Exactly." Trip finished the rest of the coffee in his mug. "Somethin' tells me that we're gonna find out what Future Guy wants...and it isn't gonna be pretty."

* * *

Trip's impromptu attack on the Kovalaans did more than just rearrange some of the TARDIS's systems. Malcolm found more information on the 'Time Lords' and 'Gallifrey' in the database. The Doctor's people became victims of their own arrogance and as a result, Galifrey was destroyed in a 'Time War'.

The more Trip learned about the Doctor, the more he was convinced that he was the TARDIS's master and not Captain Harkness. Then what was Harkness, merely a passenger along for the ride? Somehow that didn't sound right, either. Malcolm wondered aloud if Harkness was like some sort of military advisor, but then why was TARDIS without weapons?

Thankfully, there were no more crises for a while, and Trip was able to take a new inventory of the systems. The internal scanners revealed a glowing space deep within the TARDIS. It was accessible through a series of passageways that snaked deep within the bowels of the ship. Trip took a PADD and ventured down those hallways. Many of them were overgrown with ivy, with the occasional wooden bench and stone pillar.

_I bet no one's been down here in a while. Either that, or the Doctor needs to hire a gardener and a landscape architect. This whole place needs a major makeover. _Trip turned a corner and walked straight into a tangle of low-lying branches. He swore and managed to untangle himself with only a few scratches to show for it.

"Commander? Trip?"

"Down here, Malcolm." Trip narrowed his eyes at the readings on the PADD. "I think I'm getting' closer to finding the TARDIS's power source."

Malcolm pushed aside a cluster of vines and joined Trip. He'd had his own battles with the errant vegetation, if the green stains on his clothes were any indication. "This is an odd place to put a ship's engine. If I didn't know better, I would have thought we were in some sort of outdoor maze."

"Bigger on the inside than on the outside," Trip agreed. "I wonder if the TARDIS did it to keep people out of here."

"So, of course, you decide to come down here anyway." The Englishman's tone was humorous and without rancor. "You're lucky she likes you."

"Yeah. I can see how someone can get lost." He came to a huge set of double doors set into a nearby wall. "This is it. The readings originate from here."

"The engine room?"

Trip nodded. "Looks like. Though I don't see a lock on the door. I wonder how you get inside-" He laid a hand on it as he shifted the scanner to his left hand. The doors flew open so abruptly that Trip nearly fell inside. "Whoa!"

"Trip!" Malcolm grabbed his arm and stopped his fall. "You all right?"

"Yeah. Just startled." Trip regained his footing and straightened under Malcolm's grasp. "Damn, take a look at that!"

The room seemed to stretch up, up, up to infinity. Flying buttresses stretched from each corner to support the massive ceiling. A green carpet of leaves and moss covered the floor. It was a strange combination of Notre Dame and the Elven forest in the _Lord of the Rings_.

_Lorien_, Trip thought with a small smile.

At the center of the room was a square-shaped stone slab. Four blue pillars stood at each corner, each one emblazoned with a strange figure-eight emblem. Trip made his way up the center ramp and looked down at the stone.

"I recognize the symbol from the database," Malcolm murmured. "It's from the planet Galifrey."

They stared at it for a long moment, awed at the sheer power radiating from it. The four pillars pulsed with some sort of energy; Trip thought that lingering here for long might not be a good idea. Who knew what kind of residual radiation this thing put off?

"So that's your engine, huh?" he whispered. "Wow. What kind of power source are you usin', Darlin'? I don't see any way to open it up and take a look. For all I know, you might not be able to do it-"

Malcolm shook his head. "Even if you could, I don't think you should. It feels almost like a sacrilege. This whole room reminds me of a cathedral."

"Like Saint Paul's or Westminster Abbey or somethin'?"

"I don't think I've felt like this even in those places."

Trip nodded. "All right, we'll leave it alone for now. I don't want to mess with it any more than I absolutely have to." He smiled and patted the stone. "Thanks for lettin' us take a look, Darlin'."

"At least we know where to go if we need to make repairs." Malcolm glanced all around as if putting every detail to memory.

"C'mon, it's a long walk back up." He gave the stone a final pat and led the way out of the room and back through the ivy-covered corridors. Neither man said much as they retraced their steps.

They emerged back into the control room. Trip looked up and he spotted a ventilation shaft he had never noticed before. It was partly open; cool air circulated through it and balanced the temperature in the room. Trip frowned as he went over to it. Something was jammed in a corner of the grate, preventing it from swinging closed.

"What's this?" he murmured. The object was rectangular and about the size of his hand. "Damn, this thing is jammed in here good. No tellin' how long it's been stuck-"

"Need some help?" Malcolm asked.

"Nah, I think I got it-" He pulled on it, and when that didn't work, he yanked on it. Finally, he used both hands and the object came free. The effort knocked him backward on the floor.

Malcolm smirked. "You seem to be living up to your nickname today."

Trip rolled his eyes. "Gimme a break." He glanced down at what he'd found. It was a book, bound in cracked black leather and stamped with peeling gold letters. The cover read TARDIS Control Manual, Type 40 Mark II, Galifrey Shipyards. In smaller letters was printed:_ Information on Pilot Certification included. _There were tell-tale rings deep within the leather, as if someone had used it as a drink coaster.

Trip grinned. "Jackpot!"

Malcolm matched the smile. "Our missing Control Manual. What was it doing in a vent?"

"I dunno. Hell of a place to leave it."

He flipped through the pages. They were stained with engine fluid, mashed banana, soot, and water; the ink ran in places, but it was still legible. Someone had scribbled out the print and jotted down notes in the margins. Other pages had been torn and repaired, still others were nibbled at the corners. In all, the manual had been misused and abused.

Little wonder it had been used to prop open a vent, of all things. One of the pilots (perhaps the Doctor himself) must have done a little do-it-yourself project and promptly forgot he used the manual for it.

To their good fortune, it turned out.

"Believe me, I'm gonna be readin' this-" Trip held up the book. "-from cover to cover."

* * *

Trip was barely a quarter of the way through the manual when the TARDIS shuddered and bounced along the 'walls' of the space corridor. He jumped up from the bucket seat and went to the other side of the console. Panic flooded his mind; not his, but from the ship. Whatever was going on was beyond her control as well, and she was just as terrified. Trip automatically reached out and tried to reassure her.

_Easy, girl, just ride with it. If you keep fightin' it, you'll damage your systems even more. How can I help you? Show me what to do._ And just like that, Trip felt a surge of power go through his body, and it left a giddy feeling, as if he'd downed a whole bottle of champagne in one gulp. He had the mental image of a spiral, like the cone of a tornado, and the TARDIS rotated on the outer edge, going down faster and faster with frightening speed.

_Where are your brakes? _Trip gripped the edge of the console, his fingers finding the blue buttons inset in the edge and he pushed them. The horrible grinding sound rose all around him and split his eardrums, but the TARDIS slowed, throwing colored sparks in his mental vision, before it touched down with a violent thump.

Trip opened his eyes to find himself planted face-down in front of the double doors again. Malcolm lay sprawled near the bottom of the spiral staircase, clear across the room. Trip managed to lever himself up to a sitting position.

"Are you all right?" Malcolm asked.

"A little shaken up, but I'm fine. I wonder where we are this time." He pulled himself up to the door and pressed an ear to it. "I'm not hearin' anything outside."

"Better to be safe than sorry. Let me go first." Malcolm made his way to Trip's side and cracked the door open. The minute he did, weapons fire slammed into the door. He yanked it shut and shouted, "Get down!"

Trip automatically hit the floor at the clipped order. Several minutes later, they both heard the rumble of booted feet running away from the TARDIS, and it faded into silence. Trip's heart pounded in his ears. "We've landed in the middle of a war zone."

"Where and when?"

"Dunno about you, but stayin' here is startin' to sound better and better."

Malcolm frowned and cracked the door open once more. When there was no reaction, he cautiously looked out. "We're in a corridor on a ship. It looks familiar for some reason..."

"You know where we are?" Trip peered over the edge of the door to see a beige and gray hallway. The TARDIS was tucked into an alcove, out of direct view. There was another rumble of feet and shadowy figures ran past them. The soldiers didn't notice their presence at all, but both Trip and Malcolm got a good look at them.

"Xindi Reptilians," Trip hissed.

"Phase rifles," Malcolm hissed back. "Under the third bucket seat of the console."

Trip scrambled back and found the phase rifles stashed under the bucket seat. "Always prepared, huh?" he called as he tossed one of them to Malcolm.

"Eagle Scout," Malcolm shot back.

"Yeah, yeah. Obviously, we're supposed to do somethin' here." Trip grabbed a scanner and came back to the doors. "But what?"

The Xindi ship shuddered under multiple blasts and nearly dumped both of them out the doors. Then a metallic voice grated on the speakers: "Intruder alert, deck six. Intruder alert, deck six. Time to jump point: ten minutes."

Trip and Malcolm realized it at the same time. They were on the Xindi Superweapon.


	13. The Road to Hell is Paved

Trip and Malcolm find out that the results of their actions may have unforeseen consequences in a particular universe. Trip finally talks with the mysterious Rose and discovers what has happened to the Doctor. The final showdown with Future Guy is on the horizon.

Spoilers: ENT "Countdown", "Zero Hour"

The Reapers show up in DW "Father's Day". Rose saves her father, Pete, from being run over by a car. That changes the timeline and brings the Reapers, who cause havoc. The only way to get rid of them is to correct the timeline. Pete sacrifices himself to make things right.

The TARDIS materializing around its occupants happened (albeit in reverse) in DW "Blink".

**"Would you two like to be alone?"** In DW "School Reunion", Rose Tyler meets Sarah Jane Smith, a previous companion of the Doctor (Third and Fourth, to be exact). The two women compare notes about their Doctors, and both find out he still talks to the TARDIS like it was his girlfriend. Rose makes this remark and Sarah Jane bursts out laughing.

In DW "Turn Left", Donna Noble makes a decision that alters her universe, where the Doctor died. The TARDIS is later stripped for parts to send Donna back to that point in time to correct it. The TARDIS had basically given up and "died" along with the Doctor.

DW "Rose": The first word the Ninth Doctor said to Rose Tyler was **"Run."** I

DW "The Waters of Mars" The Doctor saves a woman who was supposed to die, and in doing so, becomes drunk with arrogance and power. He declares "Time is not the boss of me." The woman later dies by her own hand to restore the time line. The Doctor realizes his hubris, but he knows his time is almost up...

**"Time Lord Victorious"** is what he calls himself during his delusional state.

* * *

**Relative Time to Enterprise NX-01 (2156)**

**February 14, 2154**

**aboard the Xindi Superweapon**

**(-1 year, 11 months, 13 days)**

"But which point in time?" Malcolm murmured. "Before or after Hoshi was rescued?"

"You think we gotta save her?" Trip pulled out the hand scanner from the TARDIS. It lit up with multiple life signs. "I'm reading five Human life signs, one deck above us."

"Five?" Malcolm's brow furrowed in thought. "Hoshi and the MACOs. Hayes's insertion team are here."

Trip gritted his teeth. He had been forced to beam the MACOs two at a time after an anomaly had damaged the transporter. Corporal Kelly and Hoshi, Corporals Hamboyan and Money, and Major Hayes. Trip hadn't saved the Major in time, who had been fatally shot just moments before being beamed out. The major had later died in Sickbay, much to Malcolm's horror. Malcolm had lost so many people in the space of several days, including Corporal Frank Hawkins and Major Jeremiah Matthew Hayes...

Trip could hear Malcolm's thoughts as if he'd said them aloud: _Not again. Over my dead body. _If the Xindi slaughtered the insertion team, Trip didn't even want to think of the repercussions.

_Hoshi. She'd die too..._He glanced over at Malcolm's stony expression. If Hoshi died..._no, not after Risa. I can't let her die. _Trip made his decision. "We gotta save 'em, Malcolm."

Malcolm nodded. His accent was harsh and clipped as he ordered, "Find an emergency ladder. I don't want to use a lift unless we absolutely have to. If we get trapped in the lift, we're dead."

They found a ladder tucked into an alcove and quickly clambered up to the next deck. Malcolm helped Trip off the ladder and immediately scanned the hall. "Clear for now," he whispered hoarsely. "Defense Alpha-Three, Commander."

Trip nodded. All the defensive drills that Malcolm and Hayes had put the crew through were paying off in spades. They slowly made their way down the corridor, watching each other's backs and being alert to any threats. Trip's senses were hypersensitive to every squeal of metal and crackle of overworked circuit. He froze every time Malcolm signaled for them to stop, his heart pounding in his ears.

_I'm an engineer, dammit, not a soldier. _He reminded himself that they were up against Xindi, and they wouldn't hesitate to shoot him. All the black rage from those days welled back up in his throat, but Trip pushed it back. _Distraction in battle is deadly, _Major Hayes's voice said in his mind. _The minute you let your concentration slip, that's when you die._

A shadow moved to his right, and he reacted out of instinct. His shot hit the Insectoid in the chest and slammed him against the opposite wall. Unfortunately, his fellow soldiers opened fire and Trip dove behind one of the bulkheads again.

"Return fire!" Malcolm shouted.

Trip gritted his teeth and fired his phase rifle into the fray. He managed to hit another Xindi, while Malcolm's shot nailed his partner right between the eyes. Trip shuddered as the body hit the floor with a sickening thump. There was one last soldier blocking the corridor, who was single-handedly keeping both him and Malcolm at bay.

Malcolm fired from behind the bulkhead and the laser struck the lone Xindi defender in the face. "Clear!" he shouted. "Come on!"

They continued down the hall and came to a T-junction. Malcolm peered around the corner and nodded at Trip. "We're right behind a squad that's pinning Hayes down."

"We are?" Trip risked a look himself. Ten meters ahead were Xindi Reptilian soldiers firing their rifles at something down the hall. The return fire knocked one of them off his feet, but that still left several of his comrades. Trip narrowed his eyes and thought he saw Hayes and the MACOs pinned behind the bulkheads. And there, between Hayes and Kelly, was the slumped-over form of Hoshi Sato.

"We've got to buy them enough time."

Malcolm nodded and aimed carefully at the nearest Xindi. Trip took a deep breath and focused on another one standing nearby. This was no time to hesitate; the MACOs and Hoshi were in trouble.

Killed or be killed.

Trip swallowed hard as he and Malcolm pulled their triggers at the same time. The two Xindi jerked under the impacts and fell on the floor, their bodies twitching. The squad immediately turned to face this new threat, but Trip didn't give them time to react.

"What the hell?!" someone shouted. Not Hayes, but another one of the MACOs. Corporal Hamboyan. "We've got reinforcements!"

"Can't be...the transporter's out!" That came from Corporal Money, her distinctive voice higher than the others.

Then Trip heard his own voice, distorted over Hayes's communicator. "Tucker to Hayes...I'm ready to beam you out, two at a time."

_Oh, crap, _he thought. His earlier self was still on _Enterprise_, in the transporter room. How could he be here, on the Superweapon, and there at the same time? Trip let go of that thought as another Insectoid popped around the corner, like a gopher out of its hole.

And over the chaos of battle, the whine of a transporter beam echoed off the walls. Trip thought, _Kelly and Hoshi._ He shut out the memory of seeing Hoshi's limp body being carried off the transporter pad and concentrated on the here and now. _Or then. I hate time travel._

Malcolm nodded at Trip, indicating he'd heard the first transporter beam. Hoshi was safe. Seconds later, they both heard a second whine of the transporter.

_Hamboyan and Money. _That meant Hayes was the last one on the ship. Trip scanned the corridor ahead..._Where the hell __**was**__ he, then?_

Another Insectoid stepped out of the shadows, his rifle pointed at another junction in the corridor. Trip immediately realized how Hayes had been shot...and Malcolm's face hardened at he came to the same conclusion. But before Trip could say anything, Malcolm was already moving, faster than Trip had ever seen him before.

Malcolm sprang into a horizontal flying tackle that caught the Xindi completely unaware. They both went flying into the opposite bulkhead, just as the tall, stocky form of Major Hayes appeared in the corridor. Hayes had been backing into the corridor, providing a clear target. Trip's jaw dropped; how could the major have done such a stupid tactical blunder? It was so unlike Hayes.

Hayes finally turned, and their eyes met. Too late, Trip realized that Hayes _could actually see him._ The sounds of scuffling distracted Hayes, whose eyes widened at the sight of Malcolm grappling with the Xindi. The major turned and swung a fist at the Xindi which connected with the back of the Insectoid's head. The Xindi dropped like a stone.

"Major?" Malcolm whispered hoarsely.

"About damn time the cavalry came," Hayes said with a grin. He extended a hand to Malcolm. "Thanks. I owe you one."

"You're...welcome." There was a screeching sound from high above them. Malcolm yelled, "Down!"

Trip hit the deck without hesitation. Something whizzed past where his head had been only a moment before. The Xindi fired at the winged creatures, but their yells turned to screams as they were swallowed whole.

"What the hell are those things?" Trip yelled.

"We need to get out of here!" Malcolm swung his phase rifle and it hit one of the creatures in the gut.

Hayes flipped open his communicator. "Hayes to _Enterprise-" _was all he managed to get out before he dropped the communicator and shoved Trip out of the way of danger. One of the creatures lashed out with teeth and claws, a split second before Malcolm scored a direct hit on it.

"Major!" Trip managed to reach Hayes's side. The MACO pressed both hands to the gaping, bleeding wound in his chest, and he gritted his teeth to keep from screaming. Trip swallowed hard and shouted, "Hang on-"

"Too...late," Hayes grated out. "Commander-"

"Lie down and shut up, Major," Malcolm snapped. "We're getting you out of here!"

Hayes shook his head slightly, his breathing labored. His mouth moved, but Trip couldn't hear the words. Trip bent closer, his eyes widening as the transporter beam whisked him away from sight.

"He saw us," Trip shouted. "Hayes saw us!"

Malcolm nodded and fired his phase rifle at a Xindi who came up the corridor. "Those flying dinosaur things are gone."

Trip frowned, but there was no time to think about the strange disappearance. He scrambled to his feet and shot another Xindi who'd popped around the corner. Together, Trip and Malcolm inched back up the hall towards the TARDIS, covering each other's backs. It was slow going, and Trip suspected the Xindi were herding them into at trap.

That was probably how they were able to get Hayes. He'd been alone, with no one to watch out for him after his MACOs had been beamed back to _Enterprise_. Trip shivered at the thought. Even with Malcolm at his back, he had the horrible feeling that this might be it. They'd saved Hoshi, but would it be at the cost of their own lives?

"More of them," Malcolm shouted. He nodded at Trip. "They've got us surrounded, Commander."

"Dammit!" Trip cursed. He and Malcolm stood back-to-back, as more Xindi came up from both ends of the hall and trapped them in the middle. Suddenly, all the fear melted away and left a sense of calm. His grandfather once told him that he'd only feel this calm on his deathbed. _Looks like I'm gonna join him and Lizzie in a minute._

Malcolm's voice didn't tremble at all. "It's been an honor serving with you, Commander."

"You too, Malcolm." He glanced over his shoulder and gave the Armory Officer a crooked smile.

Malcolm returned the smile. "Let's do it."

Trip fully expected lasers tearing into his flesh and braced himself for the agony. What he didn't expect was the sound of grinding metal that intensified until the walls vibrated. The Xindi dropped their rifles and clapped their hands over their ears. He started as he saw his surroundings phase out of existence, slowly but surely, and the interior of the TARDIS melted into its place.

The police box shuddered from the repeated blasts. They lost their footing and crashed into the railing around the control platform. "Let's get the hell out of here!" Trip staggered into the bucket seat, and began pushing buttons and pulling down levers.

"Okay," he muttered. "Here goes." Trip seized the lever with both hands and yanked it down with much more force than he had intended. His world tipped ninety degrees, flinging him on the console.

Mercifully, the trembling ceased and the TARDIS rumbled in flight once more. Exhausted, Trip flopped backward into the bucket seat, the shock of battle finally catching up to him. Malcolm sat on the edge of the platform, looking just as stunned as he felt.

"That was too close," Malcolm muttered.

"Yeah. It's almost as if this ship knew we were in trouble and got us out of a jam." Trip reached over and patted the console. "Thanks." A surge of affectionate warmth tingled through his fingers in response. It was odd, but welcome at the same time.

"We saved Hayes from being killed," Malcolm murmured as he leaned back against one of the railing supports. "That definitely changed history."

"He saw us. I think he assumed I'd gotten the transporter fixed and we'd beamed over to help him out."

"That would have been a neat trick, considering I was manning the Tactical station on the Bridge at the time."

Trip frowned. "But I—well, the earlier me, anyway—was in the transporter room when Hayes came back. Wouldn't he have wondered what the hell was going on when he saw me there when he'd just saw me minutes earlier on the Xindi ship?"

Malcolm scowled as he waded through that paradox. "Maybe someone else ended up manning the transporter? Or maybe Hayes thought he was mistaken when he saw us?"

"Time paradoxes are a bitch," Trip muttered and closed his eyes against the headache. "You know, this one was different from Risa. Both familiar settings, but on Risa, events had already been changed. I couldn't find your name on the room reservation, and the crew roster was different. This time-"

"You heard your own voice over the comm channel, and the transporter still malfunctioned," Malcolm finished. "And the moment we saved Hayes, those flying dinosaurs just appeared out of nowhere."

"And disappeared when Hayes was transported back to the _Enterprise," _Trip said slowly. "In our timeline, he was shot. In this one, he got mauled."

Malcolm's eyes were shadowed. "He was meant to die, no matter which universe?"

"I just hope we didn't screw things up further by trying to save his life."

"Let's find out. If things have changed again, it would show up in the database."

Trip opened his eyes, leaned forward again and tapped the controls. An image of a four-armed, winged being materialized on the screen, the exact copy of the creatures on board the Xindi Superweapon. "Malcolm..."

"I see it. According to this, they're called Reapers." His eyes scanned the text. "They're called 'temporal predators'. If something happens that isn't supposed to happen, they appear and destroy everything in their path."

Trip shivered at the words and whispered, "So when we saved Hayes, it was a paradox, and they showed up. But they were gone when Hayes was beamed back to _Enterprise_. He saved my life-"

"-and he must have still died in Sickbay afterward. So, he fixed the timeline, and the Reapers vanished."

Trip closed his eyes again. "You think he somehow felt it was wrong and jumped between me and that Reaper on purpose?"

"Hard to say." Malcolm took a deep breath and gave Trip a look of sympathy. "Even if he hadn't, it wouldn't have changed anything."

"But...probabilities. There's probably a universe where the Reapers killed everyone, and a universe where we saved Hayes and they didn't show up. More branches off the tree-"

The TARDIS beeped again and more text replaced the image of the Reaper. Trip read it aloud, "Hayes, Jeremiah Matthew, General, Military Assault Command, head of the detachment assigned on _Enterprise_ NX-01 during the Xindi War. Later commanded troops during the Second Xindi War, strategic planner of the assault of the Xindi Homeworld-"

Malcolm's mouth dropped in shock. "What?"

"Highly decorated, Coalition Medal of Honor, Married-" Trip cleared his throat. "Oh, shit."

"Go on. Let me hear it."

"You sure you want to hear this? You're not gonna like it."

Malcolm's smile was without humor. "A different universe, out of a myriad of universes, remember? Just because something happened here doesn't mean it will happen somewhere else."

"Married Professor Hoshi Sato-Reed, widow of Starfleet Captain Malcolm Reed, one son, one daughter. Died 2211, aged 95." Trip shook his head and added, "That still sounds messed up to me, but like you said, it's one universe out of many, and as long as it doesn't happen in a majority of the universes..."

"Probabilities."

"Yeah." Trip chewed his lip and admitted, "I dunno...it still doesn't feel right. I can't put my finger on why, though."

Malcolm crossed his arms and leaned against the edge of the console. "This information said that he eventually planned the assault on the Xindi Homeworld. That implies that events in that universe quickly deteriorated after Hayes arrived back on _Enterprise_. It sounds like Earth had struck back."

"You mean _Enterprise_ failed in its mission and Earth was destroyed."

He shook his head as he tapped the screen. "No. The Xindi weapon was stopped in Earthspace, but according to this, Earth's population demanded reparations for the attacks, and when the Xindi refused, Starfleet organized a counterattack, with the Earth Council's blessing. Terra Prime became wildly popular-"

Trip felt a shiver down his spine. "Figures. Non-Humans like the Xindi want to wipe Humans from the universe-"

Malcolm shook his head as he continued to read an alternate history. "According to this, Earth accelerated their shipbuilding and weapons development and sent several starships to the Xindi Homeworld: _Enterprise, Columbia, Endeavor, Intrepid, Atlantis, Lexington, Atlas, Artemis, Hermes..."_

The list went on and on. Trip's eyes bulged at the long line of ship names. "How the hell did we—did they—manage to scrounge up enough materials and personnel for somethin' like that?"

"We...They forced the Warp 7 specifications from the Vulcans after Earth signed a mutual defense pact with the Andorians, the Nausicaans and the Orions." Malcolm shook his head again, stunned at what he had just said. "After the Xindi campaign, Earth decided to go on with their mission to the stars, albeit with a different agenda. Conquest."

Trip sat down in the bucket seat before his knees gave way. "Oh my God," he whispered. "We just doomed several races in that universe by saving one man. The Xindi, the Vulcans...and how many more? How many more people would have died or never have been born because of what we just did?"

A heavy silence came over the control room as both men tried to comprehend the sheer magnitude of their actions. The TARDIS hummed a mournful note; Trip automatically patted the railing behind the bucket seat. "I'm so sorry, Darlin'. We didn't know."

"Probabilities," Malcolm repeated. "Just because it happened there, doesn't mean it happened everywhere."

"Still...I wonder how Harkness, Daniels and the Doctor can go to sleep at night, knowing that if they screwed up, the damage could be so bad that nothin' will correct it."

He glanced back at Trip, but the usual half-smile was tinged with sadness. "You just keep trying, Commander, but this time, you're a lot wiser for the experience."

* * *

That night, Trip couldn't sleep. He went to the kitchen for some warm milk, but even that time-honored tradition didn't work. The library simply didn't appeal for his restless mind. His body was too tired to swim in the pool and oddly enough, working on the TARDIS's systems also failed to calm him. He knew Malcolm was having the same problem; the Englishman had picked up a copy of _War and Peace_, and was already deep within chapter thirteen.

When Trip finally dozed off, he found himself sitting on a dock on his grandfather's property in Florida, a fishing pole at one side and a tackle box on the other. He shaded his eyes against the bright glare to see a woman standing a few meters away. Her blonde hair was in a ponytail and she wore a straw hat covered with ribbons.

"Hello?" he called.

She looked over at him and gave him a brilliant smile. "Nice day, yeah? I've never been here before. Never been out of my home country, in fact, 'less you count all of space and time, y'know? I think you can understand that one pretty well now."

He found himself returning the smile. "Yeah, I do. Wait-" He searched his memory for the name. "Rose?"

"Yeah, that's me. Rose Tyler, at your service. You're Trip? Not many people can talk with the TARDIS like you can. She's pretty picky about that." Rose rolled her eyes. "He talks to her all the time. Sometimes I ask, 'Do you two wanna be alone?'"

The blunt remark made him laugh. "A guy and his Chevy, or his time-traveling spaceship."

"They got a special relationship, those two." Rose sat down next to him, swinging her legs to and fro from the edge of the dock. There was a bittersweet turn to her lips that made Trip wonder. "They're connected. If somethin' happens to him, the TARDIS would just give up and pine away. Happened in one universe, but Donna and I fixed that so it never happened. So some good can come outta the bad."

Trip stared at her and saw a darkness behind the bright blue eyes. "You've been where I am now."

"Your friend is wise for his years. Sometimes you just gotta keep goin' and hope for the best."

"Malcolm? Yeah, he is, sometimes. Other times, I feel like I'm older than him in more than years."

Rose chuckled and shook her head. "They've got similar traits, the two of 'em. But I'm not surprised the TARDIS chose you instead. I guess it's like a breath of fresh air for her."

Trip made a quick check of his fishing line, then said, "Really? You're sayin' Malcolm's like the Doctor in a lot of ways? You sound like you know the Doc pretty well."

"You could say that." She looke at the deep blue waters of the Atlantic in the distance. "I actually met him by accident...sort of. You know what his first word to me was?"

He grinned. "'Hello, I'm the Doctor'?"

She laughed and Trip couldn't help but laugh along. "Nope. The first word was 'Run'."

"So you two were already getting in trouble from the very beginning?"

"Yeah, from the very start." Rose's pretty features became sober. "He's carried such a heavy load on his shoulders for so long, lost so many friends...all it takes is one bad decision, one moment where someone can take advantage of the situation."

"One bad decision? Like saving someone who wasn't supposed to be saved?"

She nodded. "He did the same thing, but instead of realizing the mistake, he decided he could bend space and time to his own will. He thought he could...do everything. I couldn't help him, I couldn't reach him at all, being stuck in a parallel universe and all." Rose stared at her hands. "The Doctor eventually came to his senses. At least...he did."

Trip saw the unshed tears in her eyes; she looked lost, scared, and a lot younger than she sounded. Suddenly, he realized that Rose must be even younger than Lizzie had been. Twenty years old, at most. The surge of protectiveness that welled up within him startled him.

"Hey." He reached over and put a hand on her shoulder. "He realized his mistake; you said so yourself."

She looked up at him and the pain in her face made Trip's heart ache for her. "He did...was supposed to...but someone intervened before...and now he's..." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "He's all-powerful. The _Time Lord Victorious_."

The implication took a few seconds to hit him. When it did, the horrible emptiness in the pit of his stomach threatened to overwhelmed him. "He didn't turn away from temptation, didn't he? That someone who intervened was-"

Rose nodded. "Another extra-temporal being, with even more to lose now if we save the Doctor." Her tone dropped ominously. "Future Guy."


	14. Bright Lights and Dark Mirrors

Team TARDIS gains two members. Trip and Malcolm find themselves in a universe much darker than their own. They must impersonate their darker doubles to find Future Guy and the Doctor.

Spoilers: ENT: "Shuttlepod One", "Two Days and Two Nights", "Shockwave I and II", "In a Mirror Darkly, I and II"

DW: "The Parting of the Ways", "Doomsday", "Journey's End", "The Waters of Mars"

Torchwood: "Captain Jack Harkness"

Rose's Superphone: The Tenth Doctor modified Martha Jones' cell phone to call anywhere, anywhen in the Universe. I'm assuming he does that will all his companions' phones.

Rose in a parallel universe: In "Doomsday", Rose is sucked into a parallel universe, separating her from the Doctor. She's trapped there, and ends up working for that Universe's Torchwood (and eventually leads that organization).

Jack's 'Immortality': In "The Parting of the Ways", Jack is killed by the Daleks. Rose looks into the Heart of the TARDIS and uses that power to destroy the Dalek fleet. She inadvertently brings Jack back to life, but they discover that he can't **permanently** die. After each 'death', he returns to life (a painful process).

Time Vortex Manipulator: A device similar to a watch that Jack uses to teleport between universes.

* * *

**Relative Time to Enterprise (January 2156)**

**January 21, 2155**

**(-1 year, 20 days)**

The phone rang.

Trip's eyes popped open as he straightened up in the bucket seat. It took him a full three seconds for his brain to kick back into gear, and those three seconds were long enough for him to see a strange sight. A young woman burst out of the hallway that led to the bedrooms. Trip gaped as the woman from his dream bounded onto the control platform and snagged the phone receiver.

"Rose? Rose Tyler?" he whispered. "But you're just a dream in my head-"

Rose grinned and raised her hand in a 'wait a minute' gesture. "Yeah, I was. It's kinda complicated. Timey-whimey and all that stuff."

"Timey-whimey?" It sounded like something the Doctor would say and he chuckled in response. He watched as Rose talked with whomever was on the other end of the line.

"You could've called me on my super-phone, you know. Since when did they start with the extragalactic charges? Fine. Okay...I'll tell him." Rose looked over at Trip and added, "He's telling you to move."

Trip stared at her. "Excuse me?"

"Move. A few steps to your right."

"Who's tellin' me to move?"

"Just do it, 'kay? I promise we'll explain everything in a minute."

He shook his head and stepped clear of the bucket seats. A moment later, there was a blinding flash of light in the TARDIS, so bright that he had to shield his eyes from the glare. When the spots faded from his vision, he saw a man standing in the exact spot he'd vacated. A tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed man wearing a familiar greatcoat and suspenders.

He grinned widely and gave Trip an impish salute. "Permission to come aboard, Captain Tucker?"

Trip stared at him, unable to speak for another thirty seconds. When he finally found his voice, he whispered, "Captain...Harkness? Jack?"

Jack Harkness dropped the salute and answered, "That's me, in the flesh, so to speak. Sorry about that deal on Risa. That was my own damn clumsiness. I hope I'm not freaking you out right now."

"I'm way beyond the freak-out stage." Trip grinned and shook Jack's extended hand. "I gotta admit, though, you look pretty good for a dead guy."

"And you look pretty good, period." Jack's grin grew even bigger, if that was even possible. Trip felt a hot blush creep up his neck and into his face. "Sorry. I forget that you're a bit sensitive about that sort of thing."

"No offense taken." Trip shook his head. _Harkness just hit on me. I guess there aren't as many boundaries where he comes from._

Rose laughed. "He flirts with anything that has a pulse. You haven't changed a bit, Jack."

"And you're as charming as ever, Rose." Jack's cheerful demeanor dimmed as he took in Rose's expression. "Let me guess. We're in trouble again, right?"

She sighed and gave Trip a smile of apology. "There are a lot of things to do and not a lot of of time to do it in, so..."

Trip reached over and put a supportive hand on her shoulder. She was right; the Doctor was in trouble, and the sooner they got him straightened out, the better. "Okay, let's save the universe again."

* * *

After some initial confusion, Malcolm took the guests in stride. He, too, was beyond the 'freak-out stage' and nothing fazed him anymore. If the TARDIS allowed these two on board, they meant no harm.

"What happened to your sense of paranoia, Malcolm?" Trip teased.

Malcolm gave him a dry smile and replied, "I trust the TARDIS's judgment."

To Trip's surprise, he suggested that they take their strategic discussion to the kitchen. Trip didn't understand the reason until Malcolm went straight to the fridge and tossed him a bottle of Guinness.

"I forgot I left those there," Jack mused.

"Considering the circumstances, I thought having these would be appropriate," Malcolm said formally. "Sir."

"No need to call me 'sir', Lieutenant Reed. I may hold the rank of a Group Captain on my epaulets, but I think the TARDIS considers you two to be her pilots right now. That automatically gives you two a promotion." Jack gave him a brilliant smile as he caught his beer one-handed.

"Royal Air Force?"

There was a glimmer of sadness in Jack's eyes, but it was gone before Trip could be sure. "Yeah, originally. 1941. It's a long story."

Trip narrowed his eyes. "You're long-lived? Not Human?"

"Oh, I'm Human." Jack and Rose traded inscrutable looks. "Long story short, I can't die, not permanently. I come back, time after time."

Trip's mouth dropped open. "So you actually did die on Risa-?"

Malcolm's question mirrored his disbelief. "You're immortal?"

"For all intents and purposes, yes." Jack sobered and took a long pull of his beer. "It's not all it's cracked up to be, believe me. Coming back each time feels like being dragged over broken glass."

"That certainly doesn't sound pleasant."

"It isn't, Malcolm." Jack's piercing gaze assessed him in a matter of moments. Malcolm reddened under the scrutiny, but didn't back down from the stare.

Rose gave Jack a discreet elbow in the side. "Can you two have your staring contest later?"

Malcolm cleared his throat. "Yes. We have more pressing matters."

"The Doctor." She quickly told Jack and Malcolm what had happened; Trip simply listened, for he'd already heard this in the dream. Both men understood the implications right away.

"A critical juncture in the Doctor's timeline," Malcolm murmured. "One different decision, one different outcome. Future Guy seized the opportunity when his defenses were down."

"Yeah...and now the universes are going to pay for it, including all of ours." Jack glanced at Rose, who nodded back. "Her universe...a parallel to mine, was one of the first to fall. Future Guy kidnapped all the Doctor's former Companions and my team. Suddenly, my universe winked out of existence. Lucky I wasn't there at the time, or I wouldn't be sitting here now."

Trip and Malcolm glanced at each other. "And our universe is next on Future Guy's list, and he's got a grudge against _Enterprise_."

"The TARDIS has always known when the Doctor needs extra help. I think she found the two men who are perfect for the job." Jack smiled again and gestured with his beer bottle. "You two."

Malcolm sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. "All right...what can we do to stop Future Guy once and for all?"

"Can the TARDIS find Future Guy?" Trip asked. "I mean, he's not exactly hard to miss."

Rose clenched her beer in her hand and said, "She knows where the Doctor is, and I reckon she's backtracked in his steps. Go back far enough, and we'll find both him and Future Guy."

Trip nodded; so he'd been right in that the TARDIS had been searching for her owner all this time. Vulcan, Risa, Lorian's _Enterprise_, the Xindi Weapon...if the TARDIS had brought Rose Tyler and Jack Harkness along for the ride, they had to be close. Trip sighed and silently thanked the blue police box for sharing the burden. It felt a lot better not carrying the load all by himself.

"How'd you two escape Future Guy's clutches?" he asked. "I mean, if the Doctor's other friends are prisoners-"

Jack put his beer down on the table and folded the right sleeve of his greatcoat away from his wrist. Trip saw an electronic-looking contraption on Jack's arm, similar to a transporter enhancer's armband. Rose raised her arm to show a similar device.

"Time Vortex Manipulator. It's a quick and dirty way to get around space and time," Jack explained. "Not as elegant as the TARDIS, but it does the job. All Time Agents have one. Rose...ahem...'borrowed' hers from an old friend of mine."

"He owed me a favor. John Hart's not well-loved in my Torchwood," Rose quipped, "and I saved his arse from oblivion."

"In any case, it distorts the time field when someone uses it...so Future Guy can't trace us." Jack tugged his sleeve back down over the Vortex Manipulator. "We've got these...you've got the TARDIS, so we're covered."

Malcolm cocked an eyebrow at Jack's confident tone. "Weaponry?"

Jack grinned at him. "How are you at semi-automatics? Not the same as a phase rifle, I'm afraid, but-"

A slow smile spread across the Englishman's face and he nodded. "I'm adequate at them."

"Good, and I've got the feeling I shouldn't stand directly in your line of fire-" The walls began to shudder and shake so violently that they all heard the condiments rattle in the kitchen pantry. "What the hell-?"

"The TARDIS found something," Trip said through gritted teeth. "We gotta get back to the control room."

The four of them made their way down the spiral staircase and back to the console. Malcolm went straight to the tactical screen while Trip hit button and switches. Jack and Rose stood on either side of Trip. Rose's eyes widened at Trip's efforts to slow the TARDIS's descent.

"You can do that by yourself?"

"Not totally by myself. Don't ask; I can't really explain it." Trip glanced over at Malcolm. "What do we have, Malcolm?"

He tapped the screen as information scrolled down its right hand side. "I'm reading some sort of debris field. There's a ship drifting on its outer edge...it's a shuttlepod!"

Trip fought the shiver of apprehension that went through him at the mention of a debris field. "One of ours?"

"It appears so. In fact, it looks like Shuttlepod One, but the identifying markings are a little different."

"Life signs?"

Malcolm shook his head. "I'm not detecting any lifesigns on the shuttlepod or anywhere in the area. If these readings are correct, they're leaking oxygen over there. They've got half an hour left."

"That's bad. I wish we could transport over there and see what's going on." The whole situation reminded Trip of the time they'd nearly froze to death on their Shuttlepod One. Were they too late? And why would Future Guy be here, of all places?

"Yeah, we can," Rose piped up as tapped her Vortex Manipulator. "This'll put us where we need to be."

Jack frowned and said, "It'll be a tight fit if we all go over there. Rose, let me and Trip go over. He's an engineer and familiar with that technology."

She pouted, but saw the logic in his suggestion. Malcolm looked like he was going to object too, but Trip said, "I think we'll be okay."

Rose sighed. "All right, but I go next time."

"Okay, I promise." Jack set the coordinates on his own machine. "Grab onto my arm, Trip. Here we-"

* * *

"-go."

Trip blinked as the interior of the shuttlepod flashed into existence around him. The air had an icy bite to it and frost already covered most of the control panels. He pushed away the memories as he made his way forward to the pilot's seat. A limp body slumped on the helm controls. The uniform was black, with rank bars on the shoulder epaulets. A belt crossed the man's chest from left shoulder to right hip, ending in a gun holster.

He put a hand on the pulse point of the man's neck, but there was no heartbeat. Blood had congealed all around the instrument panel and the floor of the shuttlepod. Trip gently pushed the body back into the pilot's chair; the head lolled limply on its shoulders, but he got a good look at the face.

It was his, but the right side of his face was horribly disfigured, with a horrible scar and a drooping eye. The remaining left eye was open, glaring at Trip as if to say, _Where the hell have __**you **__been?_

"Holy sh-"

"Trip?" Jack called from farther back in the shuttlepod. "I think you'd better take a look at this."

He tore himself away from his dead double. A glint of steel sparkled in the dim light and he spotted a wicked-looking, three-pronged knife just inches from his double's hand. The blade itself was blackened with dried blood. This version of Tucker hadn't frozen to death. He'd been stabbed.

"Look familiar?" Jack asked without humor. He inclined his head to a second body lying in the passenger compartment. "I don't recognize the uniform-"

"MACOs. Military Assault Command. Think of them like the old United States Marine Corps." Trip knelt at the second man's side; he already knew who it was before he saw the face. "It's this universe's Malcolm Reed."

Jack whistled as he made a quick search of this Reed's corpse. By the time he was done, a small pile of knives, smoke bombs, and phase pistols lay on the floor. Trip raised an eyebrow at the handful of star-shaped blades from inside Reed's jacket.

"Those look nasty."

"Yeah. They're _shuriken_. I remember Toshiko showing me a few of 'em at a museum display. Ninja stuff." Jack gave Reed's body a look of wary respect. "Your friend wasn't kidding when he said he was 'adequate' at weapons. He's got more firepower hidden on him than I do, and that's saying something."

Trip winced as he surveyed the carnage within the shuttlepod. "Japanese weaponry-"

"Strange, considering he's English."

"Yeah, but he's...he will be...involved with our comm officer and she's Japanese."

"I'd hate to mess with this guy's girlfriend, then, if she gave him the shuriken."

Trip shuddered at the thought of an evil Hoshi Sato. A sadistic version of Malcolm and a scary-looking double of himself were bad enough. Just what kind of people were they in this universe? "They didn't freeze to death; they killed each other. I think this Reed wasn't expecting to die."

"Yeah. That Tucker fought back and probably surprised the hell out of him." Jack pointed at a particularly vicious gut wound. "He would've lasted maybe ten, fifteen minutes, and would've been in a lot of pain. Not a pretty way to go."

"I guess you'd know, wouldn't you."

It was Jack's turn to wince. "Yeah, I would."

Trip took a deep breath and shivered as he glanced back at the helm. "Obviously, a darker universe, more violent than the one I'm from. Lemme see if I can get any information from the computer."

"Better make it quick. It's getting pretty cold in here."

This shuttlepod's systems were close enough to Trip's Shuttlepod One for his PADD to be compatible with the computers. He found an access port and coaxed enough tendrils of power for an information dump. His PADD beeped a warning; his eyes widened as he yanked the connections free.

"Problem?"

"Yeah. Whoever designed this system encoded a virus to screw up anyone accessing their computers."

"Security measure?"

"Yeah. I wouldn't be surprised if MACO Reed back there installed it."

Jack narrowed his eyes. "So you didn't get anything?"

"Got maybe half of it." Trip shook his head. "Let's get out of here."

Jack nodded in agreement. "Yeah."

There was another flash and the interior of the shuttlepod vanished.

* * *

"Another ship just appeared on the edge of the TARDIS scanners," Malcolm reported, barely a minute after Trip and Jack reappeared in the control room. He swiveled the screen around so Trip could see the readouts. "NX-class, but it's significantly different from our own."

"How different?" Trip's eyes widened as the specs of that ship scrolled down. "Their engine output is fifteen percent higher than our _Enterprise_'s-"

"Their phase cannons are more powerful, too." Malcolm murmured. "It's a warship."

Rose stared at it with wide eyes. "A warship? You don't have ships like these in your universe."

"Not quite like this, Rose. We're peaceful explorers, not conquerors."

"Do we have an I.D on it, Malcolm?" Trip asked.

"Bringing it up right now-" He frowned at the name of the ship. "It's _Atlantis,_under Captain Charles Tucker the Third."

Jack made a face. "They don't know their captain's dead in a shuttlepod."

"No," Trip said softly. "Not yet. I think I know why the TARDIS brought us here. I think we're supposed to take their places, Malcolm, and with any luck, we'll find Future Guy and stop him."

Malcolm stared at him, then at the ominous ship on the tactical plot. "Bloody hell," he muttered.


	15. Absolute Power Corrupts Absolutely

Timeline note: This is a different version of the MU, one corrupted by Future Guy. Certain people aren't who they should be...Trip, Malcolm and Team TARDIS must restore this universe to the 'proper' MU universe.

Another version of the Doctor gives Trip a much needed assist. Which Doctor is it? Who's the blond man Trip sees near the end of the chapter? And anyone have a guess as to the identity of "Admiral Tonek"?

Spoilers: ENT "Broken Bow" "Shuttlepod One", "In a Mirror Darkly, I and II"

DW: "Rose", "The Empty Child", "The Waters of Mars", "The Last of the Timelords"

TW: "Captain Jack Harkness"

**Four settings on the pistol**: Double the settings that Malcolm tells Captain Archer in "Broken Bow" :-D

**Perception Filter**: Used by the Tenth Doctor, Jack and Martha in "The Last of the TimeLords", plus it makes an appearance during the Eleventh Doctor's adventures. It alters the brainwaves of whoever's observing the person wearing the filter. The TARDIS has one, but it doesn't work.

**"Most planets have a North."** ("Rose") Rose Tyler asked the Ninth Doctor about his Northern accent, and this is his reply. Actor Christopher Eccleston is from Salford, Lancashire, UK.

**"Yup, all sonic'ed up."** The Doctor says this to Jack in "The Empty Child".

* * *

**Time Relative to Enterprise NX-01 (January 2156)**

**Mirror Universe, January 2155**

**(-1 year, 21 days)**

"I can't believe we're doing this," Malcolm muttered. He double-checked his phase pistol and replaced it in its holster. He and Trip had found their doubles' uniforms in the TARDIS's walk-in closet, and in Malcolm's case, that also included the weapons. Jack looked suitably impressed at the arsenal; it was easily double the amount the other Reed had carried. "_Shuriken_," he murmured, as he slid them into the inside pocket of his jacket. "Japanese throwing stars."

Jack crossed his arms and cocked an eyebrow at him. "From your girlfriend?"

Malcolm's head snapped up, an unreadable look in his eyes. "She isn't my girlfriend. In my universe, anyway."

"But she could be," Jack said with a smirk, "and you want it to be."

Trip frowned and interrupted, "Knock it off, Jack. Personal business." He turned his frown on this universe's version of a phase pistol. It was much larger and bulkier than the standard Starfleet version. How did these people carry this around? "Two settings on the pistol, Malcolm?"

"Four. Stun, heavy stun, kill slowly, kill instantly. In any case, these people believe in being thorough."

"No kidding." Trip winced at his all-black uniform, with all of its accoutrements. Phase pistol, hunting knife... "This isn't a uniform. It's a walking armory."

Jack raised his eyebrows at Trip and deadpanned, "You look rather distinguished...in a _Kommandant _sort of way."

Malcolm's chuckle was full of irony. "That's right. You were originally World War II-era."

"Well...I met the Doctor during that particular time of my life." Jack's flash of a smile faded as quickly as it appeared. "Here, you should wear this, Trip. It's a perception filter...it alters how people see you. Messes with their subconscious."

"What do I need this for?" Trip asked. The device was about the size of a PADD turned sideways, and he attached it to the leather belt.

Jack shook his head and answered, "You may wear your double's uniform, but you don't look like him." He made a gesture towards the right side of Trip's face. "Either the man got into one serious bar fight, or something happened to make him look that way."

Trip shivered at the reminder, and he was glad Jack had found a way around that sticky complication. "Yeah, you're right."

"You gotta be careful with this...one direct hit on it will cancel the effect." Jack put a supportive hand on his shoulder. "I have the feeling that 'Captain Tucker' didn't get his own ship by being a nice guy."

"Probably not." Trip took a deep breath and accepted Jack's Time Vortex Manipulator. He strapped it to his wrist and pulled the uniform sleeve over it. "Okay, I think we're about as ready as we can be. Malcolm?"

The Armory officer only nodded. Trip suppressed another shiver at the transformed man in front of him. Not only did the different MACO uniform make Malcolm look darker, but he also gave off an aura that said, 'Mess with me, and it's your own funeral'.

Trip wasn't sure he liked it. In fact, he began to feel more than a little afraid.

"Rose and I will follow after you. If we work from both ends, we should eventually meet in the middle." Jack squeezed Trip's shoulder once, then let him go. "Try not to get killed."

"We'll do our best." Trip nodded back at Malcolm; Malcolm placed his hand on Trip's arm. "Okay, here goes-"

* * *

The shuttlepod felt even colder than Trip remembered it. He could already see his breath come out in puffs of condensed water. "Damn. Let's see if we can get some heat in here before we really freeze."

Malcolm wiped frost off the main console and stared at the chronometer. "January 2155. Almost a year ago from our time."

Trip cracked open a hatch and surveyed the circuits within it. He narrowed his eyes at the damage, poked at it a couple of times, then muttered, "That's just great."

"What is it?"

"These circuits...they were deliberately tampered with. I bet someone wanted to make sure their captain and MACO commander didn't come back."

Malcolm scowled at the words. "Sabotage from someone on Tucker's ship. That says quite a bit, right there. I wonder who would become captain if your counterpart died."

"Whoever the first officer was, and I can tell you somethin'-he or she is gonna be in a lot of trouble when we show up alive." Trip got back to his feet and dusted ice crystals off his knees. "And that ship—_Atlantis_-should just be within visual range, if Jack's timing is right."

Malcolm nodded at the screen with his chin. Sure enough, a silver shape approached the shuttlepod, its hull and nacelles identifying it as NX-class. "Here they come. Let's hope they don't decide to blow us out of the sky in a fit of pique."

"You're optimistic, Malcolm," Trip said sarcastically.

"If I were at Tactical, that might just be what I'd do. As I said, these people strike me as thorough."

"Christ." Trip shook his head and put a hand on the Vortex Manipulator. "Hope we won't need to make a quick exit..."

A minute later, golden sparkles danced in front of him, just as the shuttlepod's walls exploded outward into black space...

* * *

...and Trip blinked as a cargo bay phased around him. He cursed as he patted himself down to make sure he was all in one piece. "What the hell-?"

"You all right? Lucky I handled that transport m'self, from here, instead of from the transporter room...damn bloody fools upstairs want to finish what they started. Can't afford t'lose both of you, not when we're so close-"

"What?" Trip glanced over his shoulder to see Malcolm stride off the platform with the phase pistol in one hand. The Armory Officer-turned-MACO grabbed the transporter operator by the collar and shoved him against the console.

Malcolm's tone was colder than the temperature in the shuttlepod. "Who the bloody hell are you?"

The other man grinned, but it had a touch of mania to it. The blue eyes sparkled with humor, despite the black leather jacket, the short-cropped hair and the ears that reminded Trip of Dumbo the Elephant. "You wouldn't strike a fellow Englishman, now would ya? 'Specially one who just saved your arse from oblivion." The accent was definitely from Great Britain, but much heavier than anything Trip had heard so far.

Malcolm's grip eased a little. "You're from the North, aren't you?"

"Lots of planets have a North...Major Reed. And I'd appreciate it if you'd let me go. We have a lot to do and not much time to do it in." Malcolm finally let him go, and he straightened his leather jacket. "Good. Now, then. On this ship, I'm Commander James MacCrimmon. In reality-" he winked at Trip, then said, "I'm the Doctor."

"Another one?" Trip groaned. "How many of you are there?"

"There's me, and there's another me that's needs t'get his head on straight, but first thing's first." The Doctor-MacCrimmon, Trip reminded himself, and why did that name sound so familiar?-inclined his head towards the cargo bay doors. "I'm sure they've detected the override and tryin' to figure out what's goin' on. You and Reed are supposed to hate each other's guts, by the way-"

"Already know that-"

"And I'm supposed to be your bodyguard against him." MacCrimmon jerked his thumb at Malcolm. "You call me 'Mac', you've a loyal cadre on _Atlantis_, and your first officer is a Neanderthal. He's the one who arranged the 'accident', and he's got 'connections'."

Trip heard the quotation marks and nodded. Thinking of this man as 'Mac' instead of 'The Doctor' made things a lot less confusing, especially after meeting the Tweed version, and seeing a picture of the Suit-and-Sneakers version. Ears-and-Leather (MacCrimmon) was number three. Trip suspected there were probably more running around the universes somewhere.

He nodded. "Got it. And those 'connections' go high up."

"You have no idea." Mac stiffened, then turned to Malcolm. "Um...I think it'd look rather off if they come in and then seein' us havin' a friendly chat-"

Malcolm smirked, grabbed him by the collar again and slammed him against the transporter console again for emphasis. Mac gasped and muttered, "Oi, didn't mean for it t'be that rough-"

The cargo bay doors were nearly blown off their hinges as Security poured in. At the forefront was a rather irate Jonathan Archer, with a just-as-furious Michael Rostov at his side. Trip gritted his teeth, but it was more to keep his own jaw from hitting the floor. Archer's hair was jet black, and he also wore the black uniform. Unlike Trip's, the right side of his chest was covered with a solid wall of military ribbons.

"Archer?" Trip rasped. He was unsure of his "captain's" rank on this ship, so better safe than sorry.

Archer took in the scene and pointed his phase pistol at Malcolm. "Put the commander down, Major, before I drop both of you."

"That's gratitude for you, Colonel Archer," Mac spat, "considerin' I saved your best mate from bein' blown into tiny little bits. And we both know who arranged this little fireworks show."

_Colonel? Oh, Good Lord..._Trip decided to take charge of the situation. "Let him go, Major Reed, before I shoot you myself, and I won't leave my phase pistol on stun."

Malcolm released Mac for the second time. "Thank you," Mac said sarcastically. "Again."

Archer narrowed his eyes at Trip and waved at his men to lower their weapons. "You okay?"

"Yeah, considerin' I nearly got spaced." Trip glanced back at Mac. "You said you knew who set us up-"

"Say the word, and I'll round up the usual suspects. I'm sure a few hours in the Booth would loosen a few tongues," Archer said with a smirk.

Trip forced himself not to react to the eagerness in this Jonathan Archer's voice. It was the easygoing tone his Jon used when discussing new First Contact prospects. Hearing it in regards to 'rounding up suspects' threw him off. And what the hell was 'the Booth'?

Malcolm scowled and glared at Archer. "With all due respect, I should-"

"You're the MACO commander, but I'm head of Security. Stay out of my department, Reed. If any of your people were involved, that's where you come in." Archer's tone was still pleasant, but it had a dark undertone to it. He nodded at Trip. "With your permission?"

Trip was too stunned to say anything, so he just nodded instead. Archer gave Mac a firm nod. "Make sure the captain gets to his quarters in one piece. Reed, I'm sure you've got some 'important' work to do somewhere."

Malcolm stiffened at the dismissive tone, his face dark with suppressed anger. Archer turned and left the cargo bay with his men. Trip gave Malcolm a warning look and murmured, "Careful, Malcolm. Looks like this universe brings out the worst in people. Remember what we're here for."

"Yes, Com—Captain." Malcolm nodded back and added, "I'll see what I can find from the MACOs on this ship. Apparently, I'm as much of a thorn in Archer's side as Hayes was in mine."

Mac sighed and muttered, "The worst of humanity, but still you endure. Follow me, Captain Tucker. We've no time to waste."

Crewman scrambled out of their way as they passed. Their salutes reminded Trip of World War Two: the arm crossing the chest, then extended outward. He only nodded in reply because he didn't trust himself to speak. What kind of a person was he here? And he had to impersonate this man? Maybe this wasn't such a good idea as it sounded...

"Captain Tucker. Are you all right?"

Trip started at the solicitous tone, both strange and familiar. He turned to see Travis Mayweather leaning against the door of the captain's quarters. Mayweather's uniform was identical to Trip's, except for a star patch on the right shoulder with "Boomer" in gold letters. The young man's expression was one of utmost calm, but the dark eyes reflected anger and frustration.

"Neanderthal," Mac muttered under his breath.

_Mayweather is my First Officer here, and he arranged the shuttlepod 'accident'. Of course, he doesn't know that he really was successful the first time._ Trip smirked at the man's obvious distress; it was so out of place for his Travis, but seemed natural here.

"I'm hale and hearty, Mister Mayweather, thank you for your concern. I'm sure you're findin' out who tried to blow me to hell and back?"

"Of course...Captain." His mouth quirked in a half-smile. "You have a message from Imperial Intelligence, priority red. I took the liberty of routing it to your quarters."

_And you were down here because you were going to read it yourself. Not too subtle, Mayweather. _Trip addressed him by his last name because this was not the Travis he knew, like Archer wasn't the Jon of his universe. And like Archer, Mayweather's motivations were completely transparent. _Be careful, don't underestimate him. If he's anything like Travis, he's resourceful._

"Thank you for bein' so efficient," Trip drawled. "I should see what that message's about. Talk to you later."

"Of course, Captain," Mayweather repeated, then ambled down the hall. Trip watched him go and barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes.

Mac stepped inside the captain's quarters first, did a quick scan, then gestured Trip inside. It wasn't until the doors closed that Trip finally sighed in relief. The Doctor took out something from his jacket pocket, a familiar glowing cylinder. He waved it around, then said, "All right, that's that. We can talk now."

"Sonic screwdriver?"

He grinned. "Yup. All sonic'ed up."

Trip sat in the chair in front of his computer and took a quick look at the files. "Mac..._Doctor_...you'd better give me an abbreviated version of what's going on here. Don't skimp on anythin'...the more I know, the less chance I'll do something stupid to get me killed."

Mac nodded and gave him a quick, concise summary of this universe. He wasn't as verbose as Trip expected; in this case, Trip appreciated it. Earth was the center of a Terran Empire, headed by an Emperor, who'd made London his capital. The _Atlantis_ was part of a larger fleet, including _Intrepid, Imperious _and _Lexington._

"_Enterprise_ as you know it doesn't exist anymore. It was destroyed in a battle with the Tholian Empire. You, Reed, Archer and Mayweather were among the survivors. Captain Maximilian Forrest had been one of your greatest supporters; he'd been set up and sacrificed himself and his ship in the final battle."

Trip shook his head. "Lemme guess. Forrest wasn't supposed to be killed."

"Actually, Forrest's death is a fixed point in time, Charles. We can't prevent it from happening in any universe. He died on Vulcan in your universe; this one died in Tholian space." Mac's face was grimly serious. "You were transferred to _Atlantis _as chief engineer and first officer. When you found out your captain was about to betray the Empire to its enemies, you assassinated him and took command."

"Who was he? Not Archer—I still can't imagine him in Security. He's the last person I'd expect in it."

"A.G. Robinson." At Trip's start of surprise, Mac said, "Seein' a pattern here? There are certain people whose fates are entwined with each other, no matter which universe we're talkin' about. You, Robinson, Archer...and Reed, especially."

Trip thought about that. _Probabilities. I wonder if there's a universe where I never met Jon, Malcolm or A.G. _He shivered at that prospect; chances were good there might be a few here and there. He yanked his mind off that track. "So...we're supposed to 'fix' this universe so there isn't an 'Empire'?"

Mac winced. "Um...not exactly. It's supposed to be here, just...not like this."

He pulled a face at those words. "Oh, hell. One of those universes...like the one where Hayes survived?"

"Yup. Can't change that. Unfortunately."

"So we're trying to fix a rotten universe from being as rotten? Great."

Mac sighed and said, "I didn't say that. All I mean is that this universe is supposed to be different. Much different. And it affects several timelines in the future."

Trip nodded as he accessed the message. "A necessary evil...hold on—this message was sent from London. You said the Emperor made it his capital...wait. He's British? He's-"

Mac crossed his arms, a gesture that made him seem even more forbidding than ever. His face became even grimmer, if that was even possible. "Three guesses, first two don't count."

_This is even worse than I thought. We're screwed. _Trip gripped the edge of the desk so hard his knuckles turned white. "Why does he want to speak to me?"

"Dunno, but apparently he wants something from you. If we find out what that is, we'll know what he's plannin'."

Trip sighed and tried to ignore the bottomless pit that was his stomach. "Why do I have the feelin' this is gonna be a bad idea?"

"Because it is. But we don't have much of a choice. A message from the Emperor demands a swift answer, if one knows what's good for him." Mac deliberately stepped out of video range of Trip's computer. "Whatever you do...don't tell him I'm here. If he sees me, it would be very, very bad."

"Paradoxes and all that." Trip remembered the dilemma on board the Xindi Weapon, with him (literally) in two places at the same time. Two versions of the _Doctor_ might just blow up the universe. Yet these were two different men, as far as Trip could tell, and neither knew the other.

He hoped. Or that would be, as Mac said, 'very, very bad'."

Mac laughed without humor. "You got it. A seasoned time traveler already. I'm impressed."

Trip shrugged again and ignored the sarcasm. _The Doctor and your friend have a lot in common,_ Rose had said. One thing was sure...both he and Malcolm had a biting sense of wit that could easily irritate someone, if they weren't expecting it. Trip was sure that this Doctor had some warmth under the brittle exterior. Like Malcolm, he was an expert at hiding it.

He took a deep breath and muttered, "Okay...here goes."

The screen lit up with the image of a stately office: rich mahogany wood, gilded gold, and books covered in red leather. Trip stared at the man who sat behind the ornate desk. _How much hair gel does this man use on a daily basis? _The chestnut eyes shone with intelligence and humor, but there was a manic quality to them, one that ran deeper than Mac's. He wore a dark blue pinstriped suit, with a silver pocket watch prominently hanging from the front pocket.

It was Suit-and-Sneakers...and Trip felt his heart plunge into his stomach in dread.

The man narrowed his eyes at Trip, who immediately saluted as best as he could. Those eyes seemed to weigh and measure Trip in one fell swoop. Could he see through Jack's perception filter and divine the truth? Trip kept himself absolutely still, even as his arm ached from being held so stiffly.

"At ease, Captain Tucker," he said with a grin, and Trip gratefully dropped the salute. "I see you've been busy lately, and such devotion to duty should be rewarded, don't you think?"

He nodded and replied, "Yes, Your Majesty."

"Good." The Emperor's grin widened considerably. "I have an important assignment for you, one that will expand our Empire to new frontiers, both in time and space. Do you believe you're up for the task?"

"Of course, Your Majesty."

"_Atlantis_ will rendezvous with a new attack fleet. You're to answer to Admiral Tonek of the Romulan Star Empire Cruiser _Demonclaw_." At Trip's start of surprise, the Emperor added, "Tonek is one of my most trusted advisors, Captain Tucker. He has been gathering intelligence on our enemy for some time now. Therefore, he will spearhead the invasion."

"Yes, Your Majesty." Trip answered. Tonek? The name didn't sound familiar at all, but he had the sinking feeling that he'd be more than familiar with it in the near future.

The Emperor's mouth tightened and Trip braced himself for the onslaught, but it wasn't what Trip expected. "I've personally written orders for Commander Mayweather to be promoted to captain. He will take command of the starship _Horizon_. The _Horizon_ will join the _Yamato_ in the initial attack. I'm sure Commander...ah, Captain Sato would appreciate the extra help. In any case, you'll have the two of them out of your way. I can't have you or Major Reed distracted during this important battle, can I?"

"Uh...no, sir." He carefully hid his surprise. Yes, that would take care of his problem concerning a First Officer who was trying to kill him. But... "Captain Sato, sir?"

"Reed's dalliance has gone on a bit too long, I think. She needs to be off your ship. That woman is more trouble than she's worth. I want her—and Mayweather—permanently gone. Understood, Captain Tucker?"

Trip swallowed hard at the pure menace in his voice. "Yes, sir."

"I've got plans for the Major. He's a countryman, and bloody good one, too." The Emperor smiled again. "You have your orders, Captain. I expect them to be fulfilled to the letter. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"I'll expect _Atlantis_ at the fleet's coordinates in three days." The Emperor nodded once, then reached over to cut the transmission. Just before the image winked off, Trip saw a blond man with a goatee approach the Emperor. The man's smirk implied so many things; Trip found himself wanting to scrub his eyes at the sight of it.

He and Mac stared at the darkened screen in appalled silence. Then Mac deadpanned, "Well, now isn't that bloody fantastic."


	16. The Calm Before the Oncoming Storm

Trip and Malcolm get a nasty surprise concerning _Atlantis_'s technology. You see more MU denizens, some in very different posts.

The latter half of this chapter is TnT, and another version of R/S.

Spoilers: ENT "Minefield" "Shockwave I and II", "Storm Front I and II"

DW: "The Sound of Drums/The Last of the Timelords"

Some clarification: Mac is the Ninth Doctor (Chris Eccleston), the 'Emperor' is the Tenth Doctor (David Tennant), the blond man seen at the end of the last chapter is the Master (as played by John Simms). You'll see who 'Tonek' is in the next chapter.

Also remember that Trip believes that the title of 'Doctor' is passed from person to person. **He doesn't know about regeneration.** So he **doesn't** know Nine and Ten (and Eleven, for that matter) is actually the same man, just at different times!

And where **is** Daniels? He'll show up very soon!

* * *

**Time Relative to Enterprise NX-01 (January 2156)**

**Mirror Universe, ISS ****_Atlantis _****(IX-03)**

** January 2155**

**(-1 year, 21 days)**

News of the impending invasion swept through _Atlantis_. Trip stalked through the corridors, 'inspecting' the preparations. This ship's firepower was easily twice the strength of his _Enterprise_'s. Colonel Archer gave him a tour of the Weapons Deck, which included the Armory. The torpedoes came in different variants: Mark I, II, and IIIs. The phaser emitters were directly built into the hull, instead of using phase cannons. Even the shielding was more concentrated.

"So you've gotten better at spinnin' em around to protect vital areas," Trip murmured. "Damn."

Archer literally beamed at the praise. "After that little dust-up on Andoria, I decided to do some particle experimentation. It took some doing, but it works."

"Better'n plain old enforced hull platin', that's for sure." Trip's heart sank as he glanced at the specs that Archer showed him. There was no way that _Enterprise _could compete with _Atlantis_. If this was what _Atlantis_ had, then a whole fleet of similar NX-ships would shred his Starfleet's defenses like tissue paper.

_Future Guy...and the Doctor...they've arranged things, introduced technology more advanced than ours...talk about 'contaminating the time line'. No wonder Daniels nearly had a coronary when the Xindi messed up Earth's history. Where the hell __**is **__Daniels?_

"You got it. Imperial R and D's been pretty active this year in the weapons department. Hell, even the MACOs got tricked out with new offensive hardware. At least it's enough to keep Reed out of my hair for a while." Archer chuckled and patted the side of a torpedo casing with an affectionate gesture.

"Yeah." Trip's tight smile felt unnatural on his face. "The Emperor's countin' on us not to screw this up."

"Not to worry...if the invasion goes badly for us, it's won't be due to lack of firepower. You might want to talk to Reed about how he deploys his MACOs."

"I'll do that." That gave Trip the perfect excuse to look for Malcolm. "Everythin' has got to be perfect, or we're all dead anyway."

Archer's cheerful expression sobered considerably. "The Emperor and his adviser have a long reach. I haven't heard anything about this Admiral Tonek person, and that worries me. Why would the Emperor give fleet command to a Romulan?"

Trip wanted to know the answer to that one, too, but not for the same reasons Archer did. "If you hear anythin' about this Tonek, lemme know."

"You know I will. I wouldn't be surprised if this guy decides to turn traitor and grab for power himself. That's typical Romulan for you." Archer nodded at an Armory crewman. "I'd better go see what that's all about. Breakfast as usual tomorrow?"

"Yeah. See you then." Trip gestured for Mac to follow him out of the Armory. The Englishman kept pace with him as they went down the corridor. Just before they entered the lift, Mac swept it with his sonic screwdriver, nodded, and preceded Trip into to lift. Neither man relaxed until the doors hissed shut.

"Your ship's in a lot of trouble."

"Understatement of the day, Mac." Trip leaned against the far wall and rubbed his temples. "How are we gonna get out of this one?"

Mac slipped a PADD out of his jacket pocket and replied, "This might help."

Trip accepted it and looked over the information. "These are...security codes? From the Armory over there?"

"Already had 'em. Bein' in Archer's department and your bodyguard has its perks." Mac tapped the screen above Trip's index finger. "All we gotta do is transmit this to your _Enterprise_ and your people should be able to shut down _Atlantis_'s weapons of mass destruction."

"This would help even the odds. Now we gotta find a way to get this to _Enterprise _without bein' detected."

"Shouldn't be too much of a problem-" Mac broke off as the lift slowed and stopped. "Engineerin' deck, here we are."

Trip took a deep breath; it wasn't difficult to affect a surly expression as he entered Engineering. Like the rest of the ship, the engine room was bigger, with multiple levels. Each station was manned by a crewman. Trip looked up at the warp core, a cylinder of pulsing energy that towered over them all. For some reason, it reminded him of the TARDIS's central column...

_Crap..._

Then he realized that unlike the Armory, no one had acknowledged his presence yet. He glanced back at Mac, who leaned against the nearest console, his arms crossed over his chest. The blue eyes glittered like ice chips as the minutes ticked by. Trip smirked back and continued on his slow circuit around the ground deck.

He caught several engineers in the middle of a card game and upbraided them on the spot. Commander Kelby, _Atlantis's _chief engineer, insisted he didn't know about the gambling or the engine hooch from the still that was attached to the warp core.

"You're pathetic," Trip spat. "I'm comin' back in four hours. If this engine room isn't put to rights by then, I'm promotin' Hess in your place and kicking your whole shift out the airlock. I don't have time for this crap. Got it?"

Kelby literally took a step backwards, his eyes going wide in fear. "Uh...yes, sir, I mean aye, sir, I mean-"

"Get out of my face, Kelby." Trip watched as the man scurried away. He felt a surge of guilt for yelling at Kelby, but he controlled it with an iron will. From what he saw on this ship, his crew respected him, but that respect came from fear. They were more afraid of what he could do to them than anything else.

_Hell of a way to run a starship. Assassination makes sense, when you can't advance any other way. _Trip recoiled from the thought. What was happening to him? He couldn't sympathize with these people; they weren't anywhere close to the crew Trip knew.

"Think of 'em as warped versions of the ones you know," Mac murmured. "Basically, they're the same people, just brought up in a harsher environment. Unfortunately, that means their absolutely worst aspects come out and their good traits are nonexistent."

"Not all of 'em," Trip murmured back. Colonel Archer worshiped the ground he walked on, almost to the point of embarrassing Trip in public. He hadn't seen Malcolm, Jack or Rose in hours; he should try to find them...

Mac nodded at the unspoken question. "We can drop by 'Major Reed's' quarters. Unlike the rest of the MACOs, he's actually got a private room."

Reed's quarters were located at the end of D Deck, not far from where this universe's MACOs were barracked. When Trip activated the door chime, there was no immediate response. Mac raised his eyebrows and raised his hand to put in his security code. Finally, the door hissed open and a dark-haired woman stalked out. Trip started at the ugly glare in his direction, but before he could react, she had turned the corner and was gone.

"Major Reed?"

A string of muttered oaths came from deep within the room, then Malcolm growled, "Well, what the bloody hell are you waiting for...Captain? Get in here or leave, but make up your mind."

"I guess I could leave the barn door open, but all things considered..."

Trip heard muted snickers from farther down the hall. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a couple of green-clothed MACO peering around the corner. He put a hand on his sidearm as he stepped into the room, to add some fodder to the gossip mill.

Malcolm sat at the edge of his bed, buttoning up his jacket. His normally pristine hair was mussed, and Trip thought he saw lipstick stains on his face and neck. "Damn it-"

Trip gave him an evil smirk. "Sorry, Malcolm. Didn't mean to interrupt something important."

Mac offered a handkerchief; Malcolm snatched it and began wiping his face and neck. He huffed, "Actually, I'm rather glad of your timing. She wasn't about to take 'no' as an answer."

"So that was Hoshi Sato I saw stomping out of here?"

Malcolm's mouth twisted into a grimace as he nodded. "She took the news of her imminent promotion rather badly...so she came here to, ahem, let me 'know how much she would miss her dear sweet Major'. I had the distinct impression she knew she was a marked woman."

"She is. She and Travis both-"

"Commander Mayweather." Malcolm scowled at the mention of him. "Yes, I've met him."

Trip glanced at Mac, who nodded and updated Malcolm about the Emperor's orders. Malcolm's mouth dropped open in a rare show of complete shock, then he narrowed his eyes as he mulled over the words.

"_Atlantis _has advanced technology. The MACOs armaments are more powerful than in our universe, and the warp core uses Gallifreyan energy, like the TARDIS. Bloody Hell."

Trip gave Malcolm a PADD. "Here are the specs from the Armory and Engineering. Mac thinks he's got a way to transmit it to our _Enterprise_."

"Good. At least it'll give them some sort of warning." He scrolled down the screen, but then he looked up at Mac again. "Wait. The Doctor is the Emperor of this 'Terran Empire', but you said you're also a version of the Doctor. How many of you are there? And is there more than one Doctor at once?"

Mac smirked before he answered, "Well, at my point in the time stream, I'm the ninth person to have the name. The so-called Emperor is the Tenth."

Despite himself, Trip chuckled at the emphasis on the numbers. "So you're Number Nine and he's Number Ten? And there was a Number One all the way to Number Eight before you?"

"Yeah, there were eight Doctors before me." Mac frowned and went on, "Ten's a later...version, so to speak; my successor, if you want to put it that way. Which is why I'm keeping a low profile. Can't have the two of us cross paths, or it'll blow a hole in the space-time continuum the size of Belgium."

"Time paradox. You knew about Ten before he became your successor, but Ten can't be Ten until you pass on the title of Doctor to him." Trip rubbed his temples. "Oh, crap. I hate these things."

Mac actually laughed. "Somethin' like that. Think what'll happen if Future Guy and his minions are successful. Paradoxes spawn more paradoxes. The universe would collapse into chaos."

The mention of Future Guy raised another question that Trip needed to ask. "Who's the blond guy we saw at the end of the Emperor's transmission? His adviser?"

"He's more than his adviser." Mac scowled and abruptly turned away, his arms tight around his body.

Trip read the anger, the pain, in the Ninth Doctor's unspoken language. "Lemme guess...this Time War of yours?"

"Let's just say that when my homeworld was destroyed, I'd believed I was the last of my kind. I wasn't. I didn't know it at the time, but another Time Lord...the Master...also survived the conflagration."

Trip and Malcolm exchanged glances. "Another Doctor? An evil Doctor?"

"You could call him that, but he goes by 'The Master'."

Malcolm rolled his eyes and muttered, "You lot are rather fond of lofty titles, aren't you."

He only shrugged. "Believe me, you wouldn't even know how to pronounce my real name even if you wanted to. That is, if I told you, which I won't. Rather privately complicated. Like Vulcan first names." Mac smirked again at Trip, who cleared his throat. That smirk became another scowl as he went back to the subject of the Master.

"He's the blond man with that...Emperor. Of course, he looks different from when I knew him last, but that's beside the point. I'd know him anywhere." Mac turned back to face them, his features shadowed. "I believe this 'Future Guy' needed help, and Master agreed...but for a price."

Malcolm nodded grimly. "Control over the Tenth Doctor."

"Yeah, the guy looked pretty smug in the brief glimpse I got of him," Trip agreed. "We need to somehow break that Master's hold over number Ten."

"I believe Jack is working on that problem at the moment, Trip. Our objective at the moment is to somehow avert this interdimensional invasion. No offense, but your Starfleet is no match for this Imperial fleet."

Malcolm shook his head. " This 'Admiral Tonek' doesn't sound familiar, but then again, we haven't actually met a Romulan face to face. We're familiar with their ships...and their minefields."

Mac gave him a knowing look. "You've had first-hand experience with them."

He nodded and glanced back at Trip."My orders are quite clear. We board _Enterprise_ and take one prisoner. Our Captain Archer. Future Guy's goal all along."

"A tidy little agreement, isn't it. They all get what they want in the end. So we gotta make sure that doesn't happen." Trip took a deep breath. "Keep me informed on your end, Malcolm."

"Yes, sir."

Trip nodded and headed for the door. "And we gotta keep up appearances, so..."

"Understood." He smirked. "I won't hold anything against you."

The door opened just before Trip strode out of it. He turned and yelled, "I'd watch your ass if I were you, Reed, if you don't want it handed to you on a platter!"

"Go to hell, Tucker! Do your job and leave me alone to do mine!"

Trip stalked down the hall, passing by a tight clutch of eavesdropping MACOs. The men scrambled to attention, but Trip snarled, "Tell your boss that if the enemy doesn't kill him, someone else will."

It wasn't until he reached the safety of the lift that he let out a ragged sigh. "We gotta get this done quick, Mac. I think bein' here is getting' bad for my mental health."

Mac reached over and put a steadying hand on his shoulder. "It's an effect of being in an alternate universe. Focus, Trip, because if you allow this to overtake you, we've all lost."

Trip squeezed his eyes shut and nodded. He felt something stir in his subconscious, like a buried memory or a faded image. Mac's warning resonated within his mind and he thought, _If I lose myself, I die. It's that simple. And it doesn't take a knife in the back._

He managed to get to his quarters without meeting anyone else. The moment he stepped inside his quarters, he felt a strange tickle at the back of his mind. A second later, a slender form nearly mowed him down. A pair of lips muffled his startled yell as the force literally slammed him back against the bulkhead. He tried to move, but he was pinned to the wall with remarkable strength.

Images assaulted his mind: a red planet reduced to a ball of radioactive dust, a single night of terror-filled pleasure, veiled glances between the science station and the captain's chair...unspoken promises of protection against the ones plotting against them. Two souls united by a common goal, fused together by bonds beyond the understanding of either of them.

All that mattered was that it existed. He existed. They existed. And for a time, nothing mattered.

Mac winced, then murmured, "I'll just step outside. Ring me when you're done."

Trip hardly heard him leave. He managed to grab her by the shoulders and literally pry her lips off his. He gazed into her eyes, so much like the ones he knew.

"T'Pol, what the hell are you-"

Her long, golden blonde hair framed her face, her lips swollen and trembling. The fact that she wore only a thin robe finally registered in his brain. He stared at the raw emotion in her eyes, unchecked by Vulcan discipline.

He barely heard her whisper. "It is you...yet it is not you. There is so much anger within, but also so much goodness. How is this possible?"

"It's...a long story." He held her close, feeling the tremors through her body. "You have to keep this quiet, T'Pol. If anyone finds out, I'm a dead man. Understand?"

She nodded, her eyes still troubled. "Yes. They will kill both of us. We must stop this madness before it destroys everything else we hold dear. Trip-"

"Call me Charles. That's how I'm known here, right?"

"Charles. I will help you however I can. The Empire ruined many worlds, including mine." Her eyes hardened as she said the words. "If it is not meant to be, I will help put it right."

Trip blew out a relieved breath at the discovery of another ally on this ship. "Thank you."

T'Pol brushed her lips against his again, and the force of her desire hit him like a hammer blow. "At least allow me to give you some respite...for just this little while."

He struggled to maintain his grip on sanity, but it was a losing battle. "T'Pol, I can't-"

"Yes, you can." She gently lifted her hand and found the contact points on his face. "Lay down your burdens for a few moments, and clear your thoughts for the struggle ahead."

Trip's will crumbled under her onslaught. He kissed her again, this time without holding anything back. His hands clenched her shoulders as he steered her towards the captain's bunk.

* * *

The buzz of the alarm klaxon woke Trip. He sat up, then struggled out of the blankets. T'Pol scrambled out of the bed on her side and searched for her clothes. He remembered that her night vision was worse than his, so he barked out, "Lights!"

"Captain Tucker, Commander Mayweather to the Bridge," a voice shouted over the comm speaker. Trip started as he recognized it: Elizabeth Cutler. _What the hell is _she___doing on the Bridge? _"All senior officers to the Bridge."

"They have started ahead of schedule," T'Pol said, her tone oddly blank.

Trip shook his head. "We're not even close to the rest of the Fleet. Maybe it's somethin' else. C'mon, we need to get to the Bridge." He slid his pistol into its holster and waited for her nod of readiness. Together they stepped out into the hall, literally bumping into Mac.

Mac's eyes flickered towards T'Pol; Trip nodded. "Had a nice nap, Captain?"

"Don't even say a word."

He smirked, then jerked his head towards the lift. In a low tone, he said, "Jack rang on my phone. They've decided to move up the invasion. So we're gonna divert course a bit."

"How are you guys gonna pull that off?"

"You'll know when you see it."

Trip braced himself for a different-looking Bridge. After all, both the Armory and Engineering had changed significantly from his _Enterprise'_s. When the lift doors hissed open, it took all of his self-control not to gape in surprise. Like Engineering, the Bridge spanned multiple levels, with each console attended by a crewman. The captain's chair sat in its usual position, behind helm and navigation, but its padded cushion reminded Trip of a throne.

"Report!" he barked as he strode down to the chair, Mac closely shadowing. T'Pol hurried to a ladder on the far starboard side, one that would take her to the science station on the second level.

"Hostile ship detected, Captain," answered Liz Cutler. She wore a uniform similar to T'Pol's; the blue top was made of a stretchable fabric that wrapped around her chest and left her midriff bare. The usual stripes denoting ship's department had been replaced by a silver wave edged with black. A silver pin shone prominently above Cutler's right breast.

_Imperial Political Officer. _His gaze continued downward , much against his will. The black pants looked like they were sprayed onto Cutler's lower half, and definitely left very little to the imagination. She smirked as though she knew what kind of effect her uniform had on him.

Then he felt T'Pol's mental slap like a board to the back of his head. _Thanks, Darlin'. I definitely needed that._

_You are quite welcome. An Imperial Politico is trained to take men off guard. Sometimes literally._

Trip narrowed his eyes at the fact Cutler hadn't vacated the command chair. "What kind of hostile? And get your butt outta my chair. Queen time's over...and don't stumble all over yourself on your way up. Your feet don't even touch the floor."

Cutler flushed crimson and her blue eyes flashed dangerously at his words. He felt a stab of guilt at the harsh words, but they seemed to flow right out of his mouth. She rose out of the chair with as much dignity as she could muster, though the little hop to reach the floor marred that image. Muted chuckles floated in the air around them, but abruptly stopped at her glare.

Trip sat down, captain's dominance restored. The leather gave way under his weight; it would be easy to become too comfortable. "Can anyone give me a decent report, or do we need to play Twenty Questions?"

Colonel Archer replied from the Tactical station behind and to Trip's right. "Unidentified object, Captain, rectangular in shape. It could be a torpedo or an information probe. Either way, it's a threat."

_That's the TARDIS. I think she's gonna lead us on a wild goose chase for a little while. _Trip resisted a huge grin of relief. "Why didn't we detect this thing before?"

Commander Mayweather's tone echoed from the speakers. "It showed up on our sensors five minutes ago. It must have been shielded against detection, but for some reason, those shields failed."

Cutler muttered, "He's been down on the Auxiliary Bridge this entire time. Wouldn't surprise me if he was just being sloppy."

So that explained Mayweather's absence from the Main Bridge. It made tactical sense; if the Main Bridge was taken out, the first officer could take over from a remote location. Judging from what he knew about this version of Mayweather, the fact that Mayweather hadn't already tried surprised him.

Of course, he might have done so in the past, with his now-dead counterpart.

Trip glanced over at Hoshi Sato at the comm board. At least that hadn't changed from his universe. "Any strange transmissions?"

"It's emitting a series of bursts," Sato replied. She didn't bother turning to address him, but pressed the transtator deeper into her ear. "I'm running them through the computer. There's a pattern-"

Archer interrupted her. "It's come to a complete standstill. It's not even drifting, and I'm not detecting any stabilizing thrusters."

"None?" That came from Cutler. "That's impossible in space. Its inertia would keep it moving forward."

"I think it realizes we know it's there," Trip said with a smirk. "Weapons lock, Colonel?"

Archer snorted in frustration as he tapped buttons. "I can't get a lock on it-"

Suddenly, the TARDIS spun completely round once, then took off at high speed. Trip's jaw dropped at how fast it went. "Holy-"

"If that's a spy probe, we need to follow it and destroy it before it can transmit its information," Cutler said, her suggestion sounding like a veiled order.

"Exactly what I was thinkin'," Trip shot back. "Helm, pursuit course. Comm, jam its ability to transmit anythin'." He punched the comm button to Engineering. "Kelby, gimme high warp and don't spare the horses."

Kelby's answer was immediate. "Yes, sir! Warp 8 now!"

"Colonel Archer, the minute you get a lock, blow it to hell." Trip sat back as _Atlantis_'s power thrummed under his feet. He trusted the TARDIS to know where she was taking them, and to not get herself destroyed in the process.

_I sure hope you know what you're doing, Darlin'._


	17. Crossing the Temporal Rubicon

The attack Fleet receives its final orders from the Time Lord Victorious. Admiral Tonek's identity is confirmed. Trip and Malcolm discover they are again in mortal danger, but not just from the scheming members of their crew.

ENT "Shockwave I and II", "Storm Front I and II", "In a Mirror Darkly, I and II"

DW: "The Runaway Bride", "Human Nature", "The Waters of Mars"

Sarah Jane Adventures: "The Bane", "The Wedding of Sarah Jane Smith", "The Death of the Doctor"

**Artron energy**: Anyone who travels through the Time Vortex absorbs this as 'background radiation". As a result, **all** the Doctor's companions have this to some degree, some more than others, and some tolerate it more than others. Jo Grant and Sarah Jane Smith both have elevated amounts of artron energy, so much that the Bane commented on it.

* * *

**Time Relative to Enterprise NX-01 (January 2156)**

**Mirror Universe, ISS Atlantis (IX-03)**

**January 2155**

**(-1 year, 20 days)**

"Its projected course takes it towards the staging point for the Imperial Fleet. We'll get there, but it's a roundabout way," Archer said. He tapped a button on his PADD and the tactical plot changed on the screen. The TARDIS kept a steady speed and course, with _Atlantis_ in close pursuit.

"An information probe," Cutler said flatly. She glanced at T'Pol, who studiously avoided her eyes. "It came to gather intelligence on us and the invasion fleet, then planned to slip between dimensions with us and beam that data to the enemy on the other side."

Trip scowled and glanced at Archer. "How long until it reaches the fleet?"

"At maximum warp, three hours. Even at our best speed, it still manages to keep just ahead of us. I can't get a solid weapons lock on it." Archer slapped the table in frustration. "If we don't destroy it-"

"-we lose our element of surprise, and they'll know every single strength and weakness of the fleet." Trip turned his glance to Hoshi. "Advise Admiral Tonek on _Demonclaw_ that we've got a hostile incoming, and it must be destroyed at any cost."

Sato nodded, her eyes glittering like a black widow's. "Yes, sir."

"Timing is everythin', people," Trip snapped, well aware of the irony of his words. "We need to be ready to move out at a moment's notice. Commanders Sato and Mayweather—sorry, Captains Sato and Mayweather—I hope you've got bag and baggage packed, 'cause we're beamin' you directly to your new commands as soon as we're in range of 'em."

The two newly-promoted captains glanced at each other. "We're ready to go, Captain Tucker," Mayweather said.

"Lieutenant Commander T'Pol, double-check the sensor net and plug up any holes. I don't want the star in the next local group to burp without me knowin' about it. Doctor Phlox, I want Sickbay at full readiness."

Cutler raised her eyebrows at the stone-faced Denobulan who sat next to T'Pol. "Who's the primary physician on call?"

Phlox clenched his jaw, then answered, "I was, but Doctor Erickson re-assigned me as a battle medic for the MACOs."

_Battle medic? _Trip thought. _What. The. Hell? _He remembered that his Phlox had been one in the Denobulan infantry, but in this case, it sounded more like being cannon fodder.

T'Pol explained briefly, _He is a skilled physician, like your Phlox, but he had the misfortune in this universe to also have been born a non-Terran._

_Damn shame, T'Pol. The Empire's run by a bunch of xenophobic bas—idiots. _Trip modified that last word from what he really wanted to use, but he felt her sad agreement. He turned to Malcolm. "Major Reed, I assume your MACOs are rarin' to go."

Malcolm smirked at Phlox, sat back and crossed his arms. "Of course, Captain."

Trip hid a smile at the not-quite-sarcastic tone, and at Mac's not-quite roll of his eyes. "Good. All right, dismissed, and the next time I see you all, it'd better be at a victory party."

Cutler's smile didn't reach her eyes. "All hail the Empire."

They all saluted and echoed her words; T'Pol and Phlox did so with resigned expressions. Trip nodded and murmured, "All hail the Empire. Get outta here. Mac, Major Reed, stay. I need to have a word with both of you."

Everyone scattered, and T'Pol sent a wave of support through the mental bond. _Be wary of Cutler. She wishes to discredit you and take the ship for herself, much like Mayweather wanted._

_I gotcha, T'Pol. I'll be careful._

T'Pol followed Phlox out the door, but Cutler hung back, despite being uninvited. Trip's scowl deepened at her stubborn expression. "Lieutenant Cutler?"

"I want to see this. It's not often you yell at these two in particular." She smirked and sat on the edge of the conference table. "This should be good. Two Englishmen at each other's throats...I wish I knew about this ahead of time. I could've sold tickets. Box seats for you and your Vulcan."

Mac glared at her and muttered, "Sorry to disappoint you, Lieutenant, but I'm restraining myself from throttling both you and Reed right now."

"Knock it off, you two!" Trip wondered how he could get rid of the Imperial Politico Officer. Then he slowly smiled. "Actually, Lieutenant..."

"Captain?"

"Go ahead and stay." He brought himself up to his full height, then abruptly slammed both his hands on the conference table, which startled the other three in the room. "Gentlemen, I'm only gonna say this once, so you'd better listen up. I want you two to concentrate on what you're here for and it's not to kill each other before it's time. You got it?"

Malcolm snapped to attention. "Yes, sir."

"Fine," Mac added, with a pointed glare at the major. "He does his job, I do mine. And as long as he doesn't do anything stupidly idiotic to get himself killed just as he's becomin' useful-"

"Your concern is touching, Commander MacCrimmon. Forgive me if I don't shed a tear, you being a human shield for our fearless leader."

"Your 'fearless leader' is the only reason why you're still alive, and your noble connections the only reason why you've advanced as far as you have. I forgot, how should we commoners address you lot? 'Your Grace'? 'Your Knighthood'? 'Your overswelled, egotistical pig-headed buffoon'?"

Malcolm narrowed his eyes; Trip barely managed to stay upright and not sink into a chair. _Wait. Malcolm's family is English nobility in this universe? And class wars are still alive and well. _Now Trip knew the reason why the Emperor 'had plans' for Malcolm after this interdimensional war.

Luckily, Malcolm recovered his facade much quicker than Trip did. His tone become colder than Andorian ice. "That's quite enough, MacCrimmon. Remember your place."

Trip glanced at Cutler, who observed the sniping with sadistic glee. He knew that she would parrot every word to whomever she reported, and it would give both men more cover for what they needed to do. She looked at Trip with a 'Look, I told you so' expression."

He sighed and rolled his eyes as if praying for patience. "If we get outta this alive, maybe we should arrange a gentlemen's duel, Lieutenant, and sell advance tickets to that."

"I can still guarantee a box seat, Charles."

"Good." Trip glanced sideways at her and added, "Mind taking a look-see around and make sure people are doin' what they're supposed to be doin'? Oh, and if Kelby's still payin' more attention to his hooch, do me a favor and light a fire under him? Literally or figuratively?"

Cutler all but leaped off the table. "It would be my pleasure, Captain."

"And if you decide to do it literally, let Hess know a promotion's headin' her way."

"Of course. Hess has been waiting years for this...let me thank you on her behalf. We Imperial officers need to stick together." With a pointed look at the others, she swept out of the briefing room like a queen. The minute she left, Mac secured the room with his sonic screwdriver, then nodded at Trip and Malcolm.

Trip sat down hard in his chair. "That was too damn close."

Mac gave them a look of apology. "Sorry about that-"

"No offense taken," Malcolm said with a sigh of relief. "Though it would have amused my father to know that he was nobility in another universe. Amused in an annoyed way. He's always prided himself on his ability to climb through the ranks with no interference from anyone."

"The Reeds have been a stubborn lot in any universe," Mac said with a grin. It disappeared as Trip stifled a muted groan. "Hey...you all right?"

"I just ordered Kelby's death warrant without a second thought, Mac. The words just poured out of me and I felt...some sort of sick sense of satisfaction, doin' that." Trip's hands shook as he stared at them. "I can't believe I just did it...oh, hell."

Malcolm looked alarmed. "Trip?"

"Dunno. I don't feel too good all of a sudden. My head hurts." He swallowed hard against a surge of nausea. The mental bond with T'Pol wavered uncertainly; her surprise turned into a bulwark of support, just like that, but it wasn't enough. "Dammit-"

Mac perched on the edge of the table next to him and scanned him with the sonic screwdriver. He scowled at the results. "Just as I suspected. It's happening again, but this time, it's doin' somethin' absolutely mental!"

Trip kept his eyes shut and muttered, "Wait a minute...'again'?"

"What's wrong?" Malcolm demanded.

"Hold still...this should take less than a minute." Mac scanned him as well, then glanced at the results. "When you cross multiple universes, you absorb what's call artron energy. It stays with you...any time traveler notices it and can tell you've also traveled through time. Usually, it's of a low enough level not to cause problems."

"But-" Malcolm prompted.

"The two of you together have enough artron energy to power ten TARDISes. Normally, Humans with this much should be dead by now." Mac's eyes hardened as he explained it. "But instead of killing you, it's altering your brain chemistry. Your memories."

Trip pressed his hands to his temples. "We're literally turning into our counterparts. I'm startin' to remember things I never did. Things that are scarin' the hell out of me."

Malcolm pressed a steadying hand onto Trip's shoulder. "How long do we have? And is there anything we can do to stop it?

"At this rate...maybe twelve hours. And normally, I'd send both of you back into the TARDIS. She'd protect you from the artron effects and reverse the damage it's done."

"Jack gave me his Vortex Manipulator-" Trip began.

Mac shook his head. "You'd have to be in the TARDIS for an extended period of time. And if Captain Tucker and Major Reed disappear on the eve of a historic battle-"

"-it'd be noticed, and then everything would be screwed," Trip finished grimly.

Malcolm blew out a frustrated breath. "Bloody brilliant."

"Isn't it?" Mac agreed with an unsmiling smile. "And now that I think about it...that also partially explains why the TARDIS picked you two from your universe. Anyone else wouldn't have lasted as long as you have."

"That's reassurin'," Trip said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. He managed to open his eyes and said, "Three hours until _Atlantis_ reaches the fleet. We've gotta hang on till then."

Malcolm nodded, then glanced at Mac. "I've got to get back to the MACOs before someone gets suspicious. Take care of him, Doctor."

"I will. And you watch yourself, Malcolm. You'll be taking on the less savory habits and inclinations of your counterpart as time goes on. Try to restrain yourself from doing too much damage. The originals are dead...but for all intents and purposes, you are them."

"Understood." With a terse nod, Malcolm turned and left the briefing room.

Trip managed to steady himself enough to get back to his feet. With a wordless reassurance, T'Pol let him go, but he realized her presence in his mind felt so much fainter.

That definitely wasn't a good sign.

* * *

Trip waded through reports in the captain's ready room. The Imperial Intelligence Network both impressed and disturbed him in how neatly the data was organized. Still another glaring example of the differences between the two universes. One thing became obvious: this Terran Empire couldn't afford to lose this battle. So much manpower, ships and support diverted to this invasion fleet...if they were defeated, a whole society was doomed for chaos.

_Damned if you do, damned if you don't. _There were no easy solutions, but when it came down to it, Trip's priority was safeguarding his universe. If it meant sacrificing his own life and the lives of this crew, so be it.

"Cutler to Tucker."

He tapped the comlink. "Go ahead, Lieutenant."

"We're within visual range of the fleet. Captains Sato and Mayweather have already transported to the _Yamato_ and the _Horizon_.Admiral Tonek is hailing us from _Demonclaw_."

"Get Colonel Archer and Major Reed in my ready room, Lieutenant, and pipe the message here."

"Aye, sir. Cutler, out."

Trip exchanged glances with Mac. "So, we'll finally meet the mysterious Admiral Tonek."

"Yeah, and why the Emperor gave him command of the invasion fleet." He stepped out of the visual range of the screen's pickup, just as Archer and Malcolm stepped into the ready room, followed closely by Cutler. At Mac's expression, she merely shrugged and stood on Trip's far side.

"On screen," Trip ordered and braced himself for his first view of a Romulan...

The view was murky, as if he was seeing things through the bottom of a dirty pond. Suddenly, the screen brightened to reveal a simple office with greenish-gold walls. A shadow sat behind the desk; it stood and stepped into the light.

Everyone gasped, but Trip narrowed his eyes at the blurred image. The faintest outline of a man in a sparkling curtain of light, its details shifting from moment to moment. One minute, there was the tall antennae of an Andorian, then the pointed ears of a Vulcan, then the cracked skin of a Suliban.

'Admiral Tonek' met Trip's gaze, but Trip refused to back down. _That's not a Romulan, not really. He might look like one for everyone else, whatever a Romulan looks like, but __**I**__ can see through his deception. He must be using some kind of perception filter, like the one I've got. Can he see through mine, like I can through his? If he can, I'm dead._

A slight smile appeared on the being's face. "So. You are the famous Captain Charles Tucker. There is no need to salute me; I dispense with the unnecessary." That last one was directed at Cutler, who was about to do just that. "Imperial Political Officer. Also quite unnecessary."

Cutler flushed, but she said nothing. Trip resisted a smile; Mac didn't even bother to hide his.

"The Emperor has told me good things about you. I am the one honored to meet you." Trip only nodded in response, then Tonek continued, "Your other captains have agreed to follow us into glorious battle, but only after some...persuasion. But I sense you are different."

Trip smirked and said, "I'll take that as a compliment."

"It was meant to be. The Emperor himself wishes to be present at this momentous occasion, as he should be. I have the means to transport him and his retinue to my flagship in the blink of an eye. He wishes to personally examine this...information probe that you have tracked here. It could prove useful in our attack."

"The Emperor—he's going to be here?" Trip exchanged stunned expressions with _Atlantis's_ crew. The only one who seemed unaffected was Mac, and he wore the same grim mask. If the Tenth Doctor and the Master were here, where were Rose and Jack?

Tonek inclined his head. "Indeed, Captain Tucker. He has specific orders that _Atlantis_ occupies the place of honor during the invasion, on _Demonclaw_'s starboard side. _Yamato _and _Horizon_ will enter the breach first, followed by the first wave, then we will make the crossing. I am transmitting the necessary modifications to _Atlantis's _shielding to your Colonel Archer now."

A minute later, Archer's PADD beeped and he nodded. "I've got them, Admiral."

"Very well. The fleet will cross the dimensional barrier in one hour. _Demonclaw, _clear." The image winked out.

After a long beat of silence, everyone started talking at once. Trip let it run for a minute, then raised his voice. "All right, people! You heard the Admiral. We've got an hour. Move!"

Archer and Cutler fled the ready room. Malcolm was about to follow, but Trip said sharply, "Major."

"Sir?" Malcolm asked, as the door hissed shut. The buzz of the sonic screwdriver echoed loudly as Mac secured the room.

"Malcolm, 'Tonek' isn't a Romulan. He's Future Guy. I saw through his perception filter."

He nodded. "I did too. Obviously, he can alter his form to whatever he wants people to see. And he's bringing the Emperor and his adviser here."

"That's a bad sign. It means whatever Jack was plannin', it didn't work. Watch your back, Malcolm."

"I will." He nodded at Mac, then left the ready room.

Trip frowned. "So...the Tenth Doctor wants his TARDIS back. That's why he's coming here."

"The TARDIS would blow herself up first before she'd allow him to reclaim her as the Time Lord Victorious. It would mean her death—and his."

"And yours?"

Mac shook his head. "Possibly. But surely the Doctors that come after him...the Eleventh, Twelfth, however many after that...will no longer exist."

Again, a dormant memory stirred within Trip's memory. _The Eleventh Doctor._ "No, I won't let that happen, Mac. I won't. No matter what it takes."

"Good man." His mercurial mood shifted and he wore his manic grin once more. "Let's go save all of time and space, then."

* * *

Trip sat in the command seat, listening to the hum of activity around him. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine himself as the captain of his own ship, with his own crew around him. This must be how Jonathan Archer felt at _Enterprise_'s launch from Spacedock, four years or so ago.

Too bad this ship's mission was one of war and not of peaceful exploration.

He saw another ship in his mind's eye, one in the Sol system, pursuing the original Xindi probe and destroying it before it hit Florida. He saw Lizzie's bright smile, felt her warm hug, heard her enthusiastic voice. Somewhere, some-time, she was still alive. Trip felt a strange calm come over him, as if the burden of anger and grief had finally been lifted from his shoulders.

He felt T'Pol's veiled look in his direction and he smiled slightly. He didn't dare look back, not with Cutler and the rest of the Bridge crew watching him.

"Captain, that probe's stationary, about one hundred and fifty thousand meters from our starboard side, between us and _Demonclaw_. It's resisting all attempts to retrieve it."

Trip opened his eyes and gave Archer a look of skepticism. "Tractor beam? Transporter? Hell, grappler?"

Archer gritted his teeth and hissed, "All ineffective."

"Maybe the Emperor has a trick up his sleeve that we don't-"

An alarm on the Tactical board started to whine. "What the—it's gone. Our sensors lost it. Maybe the Emperor did retrieve it."

Trip glanced at Mac, who only mouthed, _She made it_ _across._

The new comm officer glanced over his shoulder and said, "We're receiving an all-Fleet transmission from _Demonclaw_."

"On screen, Lieutenant Navokovich." Trip got to his feet, and everyone on the Bridge followed suit.

The main viewer lit up to show the Emperor—the Tenth Doctor, the Time Lord Victorious—standing on the Bridge of a Romulan ship, with the blond man—the Master—behind and to the right of him. Admiral Tonek—Future Guy-stood even farther back, almost out of visual range. Strangely enough, the Emperor wore a darker version of the pinstripe suit and a red tie. His hair still stuck up in all directions, and Trip guessed that he still wore the red athletic shoes.

_Maybe it's good that we can't see his feet. Those can't inspire soldierly courage._

Smaller screens lit up around the perimeter of the main viewer, each screen showing the bridge of each starship in the fleet. Trip recognized both Mayweather and Sato, along with several other people he knew from his home universe. Erika Hernandez and Nick Duvall, as well as Carlos Ramirez.

"Hail the Empire! Hail the Emperor!" All the crews immediately saluted at the order.

The Emperor nodded gravely, but there was a manic shine to his eyes. Trip saw a glint of silver and noticed that he held the pocket watch in his right hand. Strangely enough, his long fingers played with the smooth oval, but he made no move to open it.

"This day heralds a new day for the Empire. We will crush our enemies and claim their territory as our own. Then the next universe, and the next, until they are united under our banner! They will all know the name of the Time Lord Victorious and the Empire!"

Tonek spoke up softly. "My Lord, the fleet awaits your command."

The Emperor traded smiles with his adviser, who moved behind the helm of _Demonclaw_. The Master tapped the controls, then nodded his readiness.

"Good," the Emperor murmured. He raised his eyes to the awaiting captains. "First wave, you are clear to depart. Happy hunting. _Demonclaw_, clear."

His image vanished from the viewscreen, to be replaced by the sight of _Yamato_, _Horizon_, and the first attack wave heading for the interdimensional border, a jagged crack of light through space and time.

"Here we go," Trip muttered as _Atlantis_ made ready to follow them.


	18. The Battle at Zero Point

Trip and Malcolm make it home to their own universe, but they must find a way to stop the Time Lord Victorious and Future Guy.

Plenty of cameos from various characters in Enterprise and Doctor Who in this chapter. Any guesses as to the identity of _Trafalgar_'s captain? (The name is a clue.)

Spoilers ENT "Storm Front", "In a Mirror, Darkly I and II"

Doctor Who: "The Three Doctors", "The Parting of the Ways", The Doctor Who Movie (1996).

Technically, Trip isn't the first American in the TARDIS. And surprisingly, Jack Harkness wasn't the first, either. Peri Brown (Fifth/Sixth Doctor's Companion) was supposed to be American, but she was played by an Englishwoman (and wasn't really convincing as as American).

Who is who? (Ha, ha!)

**Smoking Jacket**= Third Doctor (Jon Pertwee)

**The Hobo**= Second Doctor (Patrick Troughton)

**Bug-Eyed Man**= Fourth Doctor (Tom Baker)

**Edwardian Man**=Eighth Doctor (Paul McGann)

**Tweed**= Eleventh Doctor (Matt Smith)

Three and Eight wear similiar style clothing, Two and Eleven as well.

* * *

**Time Relative to Enterprise (January 2156)**

**Zero Point of the Universe**

**December 31 2155/January 1 2156**

**(+/- 0 years, 0 months, 0 days)**

Trip kept his eyes open as _Atlantis_ entered the breach. He wasn't sure what to expect to within it, much less on the other side of it. Mac's warning about artron energy resonated in his mind. If he and Malcolm absorbed much more, would it mean their deaths? Would it mean Commander Trip Tucker would die, and a ruthless Captain Charles Tucker take his place? And Lieutenant Malcolm Reed become Major Malcolm Reed?

Colors swirled all around him, passed over him and through him. To Trip's surprise, he remembered everything. The TARDIS hijacking him and Malcolm. Pok the sehlat. Risa and Jack Harkness. Lorian and the other _Enterprise_. The Xindi Weapon and Hayes's survival changing an entire universe. Humanity's last stand in the Ceti Alpha Five system...

He saw Lizzie Tucker's bright smile and Captain Tucker's crew aboard that version of _Enterprise_. Commander Sato of the _Intrepid_, Malcolm's wife and the mother of his child...

_Wait. What? Oh God. _The new knowledge shocked and saddened him. Did Malcolm remember? He understood why the TARDIS erased the memories from their mind, but now, within the Zero Point of the Universe, every possible past, present and future lay before his eyes. Trip saw another Terran Empire, one without the Time Lord Victorious, and instead of an Emperor, there was an Empress.

_Empress Hoshi Sato and Captain Travis Mayweather_. That was why the Time Lord Victorious wanted to get rid of this universe's version of them. If both of them died, the Emperor's power was secure for all time. That was why _Horizon_ and _Yamato_ spearpointed the temporal invasion.

And just like that, time blinked again and something shifted within Trip. His body knew it before his mind did.

He was home.

* * *

Alarms blared around him. Trip snapped his head around and tried to shake the cobwebs out of it. It was as if someone had packed his brain in gauze. Somehow, he managed to shout, "Report!"

Novakovich yanked the transtator out of his ear. "Not all the ships survived the transition, Captain Tucker!"

"How much of the Fleet did make it?"

"Only a quarter," Colonel Archer reported from Tactical. "I'm not reading any debris...it's as if they just disappeared!"

The upper decks of the Bridge exploded into chaos. Trip glanced upward to see the limp forms of several crewmembers being hastily moved aside, and their back-ups smoothly taking their places. He narrowed his eyes at several familiar faces: _Jane Smith, Frank Hawkins..._His heart twisted painfully as he realized that these people were dead in his universe, and so they didn't survive now.

An Imperial Fleet of fifty-two ships crossed the interdimensional border. Nineteen had made it to the other side. Suddenly, the chances of a successful invasion weren't as good as the Emperor had thought. "Give me a run-down of who made it across, Colonel!"

"_Yamato_, _Horizon, Atlantis_, _Columbia_, _Clement, Confucius, Darkhorse, Lexington, Victory, Martinsville, Arizona, Paloma, Trinidad, Guadacanal, Carlotta, Freja, Charleston, Gettysburg_ and _Demonclaw."_

Cutler's eyes widened in surprise. "Only one of those ships is Romulan. Admiral Tonek's."

"I doubt Tonek mentioned the dangers of crossing dimensions," Trip muttered.

"Even if we're suddenly outnumbered, Captain, we have a mission to complete!"

Trip was about to retort, but Archer shouted, "Captain Tucker, we have hostiles incoming! Several ships, _Intrepid-_class, NX-class,_ K'Dyr_-class, and others I don't recognize-

"What?" Trip exploded out of the command chair and went around to look over Archer's shoulder. "I thought they didn't know we were comin'!"

"I bet that probe we saw made it through!"

Trip hid his utter relief."I want ID's on those enemy ships."

Archer nodded and tapped his board. The viewscreen resolved itself into a Tactical plot, similar to the one Trip had seen on the TARDIS, with Imperial ships in red and Starfleet ships in green. The names appeared next to their respective dots, and first and foremost was _Enterprise_.

Novakovich looked over his shoulder. "They're hailing us."

Trip swallowed hard, but he walked back down to the command chair on steady legs. He ignored Cutler's curious look and said, "Let's see who we're dealing with. On screen."

The viewscreen shifted from the tactical plot to a view of a familiar bridge and a familiar crew. Captain Jonathan Archer stood in front of his command chair, behind Ensign Travis Mayweather at the helm. Trip saw Commander T'Pol at the science station, and at the Tactical station, in Malcolm's place was...

"Daniels," Trip muttered under his breath. The Time Agent met his gaze and nodded slightly. _I don't think I've ever been more glad to see this guy's face._

Cutler hissed, "You know that man?"

"He's an old 'friend'."

"Our spy?"

"Probably."

She narrowed her eyes at him, but before she could say anything, Captain Jonathan Archer spoke. "Enemy fleet, this is your one chance to turn around. We've got you outnumbered and outgunned."

Trip glanced over at Colonel Archer at the Tactical Board, and suppressed a smirk at the dumbfounded looks from the junior members of the crew. Archer, for his part, ignored the stares in his direction. In a low voice, Archer said, "He's bluffing. Even with nineteen ships, we've got the superior technology."

"Thought so." Trip thought about the glowing core in the middle of _Atlantis_'s engineering. "I'm seein' some Andorian and Vulcan ships over there, and a few I don't recognize."

"We'll cut through the non-Human ships like butter, Captain. Just give me the word."

He shook his head once and said, "We've got our mission, Colonel. The Emperor—and Admiral Tonek—want your counterpart alive. To do that, we need to get within transporter range for Major Reed's teams. Focus on that and let the rest of the fleet take care of 'em."

Archer flinched at the stern reminder. "Aye, Captain."

Trip stood up and looked over at Jon. "Is that supposed to be a threat, Cap'n? Because it's not a very good one."

Jon's mouth twitched at the drawled-out nickname. He gave Daniels a look a amusement, then addressed Trip again. Trip pressed his lips to keep from laughing aloud, for he saw the twinkle in Jon's green eyes. "Captain Tucker. I understand you're under orders to capture me alive. I invite you try. _Enterprise_, out."

The transmission disappeared. Then Tonek's voice growled over the comm, "All ships, fire at will! For the Empire!"

"The gauntlet's been thrown." Trip sat back in the command seat. "Helm, ahead one half-impulse. Get us within transporter range of _Enterprise_; I don't care how you do it. Battle alert. Colonel Archer, ready photon torpedoes and phasers." He hit the comm button. "Major Reed, status?"

Malcolm's voice replied, "Strike teams are ready at your command, Captain Tucker."

"You and your MACOs hang tight for a minute; we're gonna try to get you in transporter range."

"Acknowledged."

_Okay, Jon, I sure hope you've got a plan because I'm supposed to kick your ass and bring it back to Future Guy. _Trip dug his nails into the armrests of the command seat at _Atlantis_'s helmsman threw the ship into a tight arc, heading for _Enterprise_.

The Battle at Zero Point had begun.

Reports came through fast and furious as Imperial and Starfleet ships wove in and out of the battle arena. Explosions blossomed through space as the torpedoes found their targets, and casualty reports began to mount. Trip kept an eye on _Enterprise_, _Yamato _and _Horizon_. The latter two had survived the first wave and were in the process of picking off the smaller ships on the defenders' flanks.

"More ships coming into the sector!" Colonel Archer shouted. "Two-zero-one mark five and two-zero five mark nine! They're not in the Imperial database."

"Lemme see 'em." A secondary screen on Trip's command chair popped up and information scrolled down it. He suppressed a chill as he read the specs on the incoming ships. Their designs weren't familiar to him, but each one was the equivalent of a single Imperial ship.

"Friend or foe, Captain?" That came from Cutler, who was busy scanning her own screen.

"Not sure yet. Gimme a minute..."

"Captain Tucker, _Demonclaw_'s got a positive weapons lock on _Enterprise_!"

Trip's heart plunged into his stomach at Archer's report. "Disablement? Admiral Tonek wants Captain Archer alive."

"No, sir, it looks like several torpedoes are locked onto _Enterprise_'s port nacelle!" Colonel Archer smirked slightly at the mention of his counterpart. "I suppose the Admiral's changed his mind."

Trip quickly tapped his screen controls. _Atlantis _was too far away from _Enterprise _to do much good, and there was no time to send a warning-

Suddenly, one of the incoming ships angled itself between _Enterprise_ and _Demonclaw, _just as the torpedoes jumped out of the Romulan cruiser's tubes. The torpedoes slammed against the ship's fully-powered shields, and the ship passed by _Enterprise_ as quickly as it appeared, leaving _Enterprise_ free to maneuver out of harm's way.

"What the hell-?" Archer burst out.

Novakovich glanced over his shoulder. "Captain Tucker, they're identifying themselves as the United Earth Coalition Ship _Trafalgar._"

"_Trafalgar_?" He exchanged looks with Cutler, who shook her head. "Definitely not one of ours, but whoever it was, they just saved _Enterprise_. Colonel, add that to the watch list. Helm, are we within transporter range yet?"

"Another two or three minutes, Captain."

"We might not have 'another two or three minutes'!" An Andorian ship fired a volley of phaser fire into _Atlantis_'s forward shields. The bridge shuddered in its wake, nearly knocking people off the upper decks.

Trip jumped as a voice growled over the comm. "You're getting sloppy, Tucker!"

"Shran," Cutler muttered.

Trip shook his head. _Thy'lek Shran? Jon must have called in some old debts for Shran to be here._ "He's trying to distract us from _Enterprise_. Don't let him. Stay on the primary target. Novakovich, open a channel." At the comm officer's nod, Trip shot back, "Out of my way, Shran, I'm busy!"

"Too busy for a chat? I'm offended."

A smaller screen at Trip's elbow lit up with the image of the Andorian captain. And Trip nearly fell out of his chair at the sight of Rose Tyler standing slightly behind and to the right of Shran. Rose winked, activated a Time Vortex Manipulator on her wrist, and vanished. Shran's face gave no indication of her exit, but his antennae stood straight up on his head in grim amusement.

"Whaddaya want? Say it quick before I shoot a torpedo up your backside."

Shran narrowed his eyes at Trip and replied, "What's the Earth saying? 'Time is just a hop, skip and jump away'? You've just run out of time, Tucker."

"What's that supposed to mean-?" Proximity alarms rang as Shran's _Kumari _peeled off to reveal a solid wall of Vulcan ring ships and Andorian battlecruisers directly in _Atlantis_'s way. Trip's eyes widened and he shouted to the helm, "Evasive! Hard to port-!"

The joint Vulcan/Andorian fleet fired a wave of torpedoes, and _Atlantis_ couldn't avoid them all. Even with superior shields and other defenses, one Imperial starship couldn't withstand that kind of onslaught.

_Time is a hop, skip and jump away. You've just run out of time, Tucker._ Trip finally understood the meaning behind Shran's cryptic glanced up at the science deck, at T'Pol, who only nodded at him and mouthed, _Good bye_.

He took a deep breath and smiled at her. At the last possible minute, he pushed up the sleeve of his black uniform and activated the Time Vortex Manipulator on his wrist.

The scream of shredding metal overwhelmed the screams of the crew, and they halted abruptly as...

* * *

..Trip materialized in the control room of the TARDIS. He stumbled several steps forward, only to be caught by Rose and Malcolm. A welcome hum buzzed deep within his mind. _Welcome back._

"I'm startin' to get tired of these really close scrapes," Trip whispered. His hands gripped the edge of the console as his body began to shake. The severing of his bond with the Imperial Universe's T'Pol hurt, but he felt another presence reach out for him. Instinctively, he grabbed it and held it close to him. The warmth washed the ache away.

"Cap—Commander. Trip. Are you all right?" Malcolm sounded rather shaken himself.

"Gimme a minute." He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "_Atlantis? _Are they-"

Mac's tone was quiet as he replied, "They're gone, Trip. The Andorians and the Vulcans blew them to pieces. You barely got out in time."

"Shran doesn't do subtle messages well." Trip throttled down a surge of guilt for _Atlantis'_s crew. He finally opened his eyes and met Mac's gaze across the control console. Then Trip realized that Mac was actually looking past Trip to a point behind his left shoulder.

Trip turned to see Rose, whose Time Vortex Manipulator was strapped prominently on her wrist, and she still gripped Malcolm's arm with tight fingers. Malcolm saw how Mac and Rose stared at each other and somehow pried her hand off his arm.

_They haven't see each other in a long time. Not as he was, then._ The TARDIS's gentle tone echoed in Trip's mind. He looked at Mac, then at Rose, then he finally got it. "Um..."

She all but ran into the Ninth Doctor's arms and buried her head into his chest with a muffled sob. Trip smiled, then turned to give them privacy. "Malcolm, you okay?"

"Considering I was yanked through space and time, I'm in one piece." He narrowed his eyes at the tactical screen above the console. "Rose popped in the transporter room, grabbed me, and we jumped back here, just a moment before Mac appeared, then you."

Trip frowned at the information that appeared on another screen. "We're back in our home universe. The Cap'n contacted _Atlantis_, and Daniels is on _Enterprise _with him." He tersely filled Malcolm in on everything that happened since the Emperor's fleet-wide announcement and the dimensional crossing. He tried to remember all that he saw and felt while in the breach, but it was all fuzzy and confusing.

"The battle's still raging," Malcolm said. "_Enterprise _is about one hundred and fifty thousand meters off _Demonclaw's _port bow. There's a group of unidentified allied ships still engaging the Imperials—"

That reminded Trip of something. "Malcolm, see if you can find a ship called the _Trafalgar._"

"_Trafalgar_?" He frowned and tapped buttons. "Not one of ours, Starfleet or Imperial."

"They saved _Enterprise _from being blown up by _Demonclaw_. They're somethin' called 'United Earth Coalition Ship'."

"Coalition? I remember hearing something about that on the alternate Risa. They're probably from a universe where Captain Archer managed to cobble together an alliance." Malcolm smirked. "Sounds like Daniels recruited some extra-dimensional help."

"Yeah. Wait...there it is." Trip pointed at a green dot. "They just hit _Demonclaw."_

"I'm reading multiple hull breaches on _Demonclaw's _lower decks, but their power output hasn't changed at all."

"Whatever Romulan ships are made of, they could give Sherman tanks a run for their money."

The Ninth Doctor shook his head and explained, "They're also using Galifreyan technology. Your fleet could shoot a million torpedoes into it and it would still keep goin'."

Trip frowned. "There's gotta be some sort of weakness, Doc."

Malcolm shook his head grimly. "_Demonclaw_ just activated some sort of tractor beam. _Enterprise_ is caught in it."

"That tears it, then. You two will have to prevent Future Guy from taking Captain Archer prisoner. Rose and I will focus on the so-called Time Lord Victorious and the Master," the Ninth Doctor said.

Trip nodded at Malcolm. "Got it. C'mon, Malcolm, let's go kick Future Guy's ass."

"With pleasure, Commander." Malcolm put his hand on Trip's arm as Nine punched the proper coordinates into the Time Vortex Manipulator. "Good luck, Doctor."

Nine grinned widely. "And you, Major...ah-Lieutenant. Sorry."

"Don't push your luck," Malcolm growled good-naturedly.

Trip smiled at Rose, who returned it. "See ya both later."

He hit the button, and his environment dissolved in a flash-

* * *

-and they reappeared in a cavernous room deep within the bowels of the Romulan ship. A group of four tall cylinders dominated the center of it, all immersed in a net of golden energy. It was so bright that Trip couldn't look at it directly; he reached out and his elbow hit a switch. The light dimmed to a tolerable level.

"Four of 'em. How're we gonna destroy four of 'em?" Trip narrowed his eyes at the complicated controls at the bottom of each column. They were similar to the TARDIS's, but thick cables ran from the consoles to huge generators at the far end of the room.

"There's got to be some sort of override or failsafe that activates when something's wrong. If we can find it-"

"It should shut down automatically. Good idea, Malcolm." Trip made his way to a nearby console and tapped buttons. A nearby screen cleared, but filled with indecipherable symbols. "Dammit, this must be Romulan. I can't make heads or tails out of it."

A quiet voice interrupted, "No it's not. It's High Galifreyan. I can help you with it, if you'll permit me."

Trip jumped at the unexpected words. A tall, gray-haired man leaned in the doorway, with twinkling blue eyes and a hawkish nose, and wearing a frilly blue smoking jacket and cape. It was so out-of-place that Trip stared at him.

"Oh, for Gallifrey's sake, out of the way," grumbled another voice. A much smaller man in a rumpled suit pushed past Trip and peered at the console. Trip's first thought was, _He looks like a hobo. _"Look at this...I haven't seen this version in a long time. I'd thought they'd stop producing this model. Quite inefficient, in the long run-"

Smoking Jacket rolled his eyes and stepped past a dumbstruck Malcolm. "Leave the technology to those who are more familiar with it, and fill those chaps in with what's going on, will you."

The Hobo narrowed his eyes at Smoking Jacket. "I'm older than you, so don't be impertinent. I can do this as well as anyone else."

"At least you don't have that ridiculous flute of yours-"

"I'll get myself a new one, eventually. And it's a recorder. And it helps me think, thank you very much." Hobo glanced at Trip. "My apologies for my colleague's bad manners. Here, push and hold this button. Ah, yes, thank you. So, I understand you're the TARDIS's newest addition. So, what are you? Scotsman? Welshman?"

Trip blinked, still reeling from the rapid-fire questions. "Uh...American. Southern USA. Florida."

The Hobo's head went up at that. His tone sounded scandalized. "American?"

"Oi!" shouted a voice from the engine room floor. "_Americans are cool _!"

Smoking Jacket laughed from his position at neighboring console, but he didn't look up from its screen. "Taking him along was your idea."

"At least he has some fashion sense, unlike some others I know. What did our predecessor call you? A dandy?"

"He called you a clown."

Trip raised his voice at the constant bickering. "Excuse me! And can I let go of this damn thing now?"

Hobo shook his head and shot back, "Not until I say so. So, your name is Charles?"

"Trip," objected Smoking Jacket.

"Both," Trip said.

Hobo rolled his eyes again as if he was in great pain. "Charles is a perfectly good name. And yes, you can let go now."

Trip sighed and made his way to the railing that overlooked the floor below. He froze as he saw a tweed-clothed young man rushing from column to column with what looked like a version of the sonic screwdriver in his hand. Another long-haired man in a frilly Edwardian outfit lay on his back under the third control console, yanking out wires and twisting the remains into all sorts of configurations.

"How are you faring, Eight?" shouted Tweed.

"Almost finished, but there's so many extra connections here, it's redundant." Edwardian Man's voice was muffled, since he held his sonic screwdriver between his teeth. "The Master's handiwork, the bloody sod."

A few meters away was a figure wrapped in an impossibly long scarf from head to toe. The curly, brown-haired man tapped controls on the fourth console. He read the results and his eyes widened in shock and surprise, huge like a bug's.

"Chaps, it seems that we might have a problem," Bug-Eyed man announced. "The usual shutdown codes appear not to be working."

"They've upgraded the software," confirmed Tweed. "All that Vista rubbish. You'd never find that in my TARDIS." He glanced up and met Trip's gaze. "I'm going to need your help, Charles. Take your friend down here too...always handy to have a look out while you're doing something...unkosher."

Trip grinned at Malcolm and made his way down the stairs. Malcolm murmured, "Those all can't be-"

"Remember Nine said there was a One through Eight before him? And there's a Ten, Eleven and a possible Twelve? I think we're seeing some of them. I recognize their clothing from the TARDIS's closet. It looks like some of the Doctors happen to wear similar styles."

"It's a miracle that one hasn't tripped over that scarf, or has it caught in a door."

"Maybe it's supposed to be a weapon." Trip grinned as Malcolm appeared to seriously consider that. He reached Tweed's side. "'Kay, what can we do, Doc?"

"Mister Reed, I want you to keep an eye on that door over there-"

Smoking Jacket leaned over the railing and interrupted, "Yes, and if anything pops through it, use this." He reached into his pocket with a distracted air and pulled out what looked like a phase rifle, except this one had a target sight and bigger buttons. As Trip goggled over his seemingly unending jacket pocket, Malcolm caught the rifle one-handed, nodded and went to cover that exit.

Tweed made a face at his predecessor. "Is that really necessary?"

"He's a warrior," Smoking Jacket replied. There's nothing wrong with that. Sometimes a little 'convincing' is necessary to get things done, so let him do his job."

Bug-Eye and Hobo sighed in resignation. Edwardian Man—_Eight,_ Trip thought-doggedly concentrated on his work, but made no comment.

Tweed only shook his head before addressing Trip. "All right, Charles, I need you to listen and listen well. This behemoth of a ship runs on stolen Gallifreyan technology, similar to the TARDIS. Those times when you 'flew' the TARDIS, what were you thinking at the time?"

Trip frowned and answered, "That people I love were in danger, like T'Pol and Lorian-"

"That's it. Your crew, your...girlfriend, your captain...they're in danger now, and if we don't stop the Time Lord Victorious and Future Guy, no amount of spaceship power will prevent them dying. Time can be rewritten, universes can change...you can manipulate machines in ways that even I can't comprehend."

Tweed nodded at a set of controls. "Charles, you need to take hold of those and think about stopping this ship from harming your loved ones and your friends."

"This thing is bigger than the TARDIS-"

"Size doesn't matter." Tweed paused, winced at the words, then plowed on. "It's the same basic principle. You can do this, Charles. You have to do this."

Eight scrambled out from under his console. "That's done it...try it now, Four."

Bug-Eyed Man tapped more controls, then shook his head. "No change. We're running out of time."

More arguing broke out on the upper deck, and Trip took a deep breath. He nodded and said, "Okay."

Tweed clapped him on the shoulder. "Good man."

He went up to the controls and eyed them with trepidation. _I'm the only one who can do this. I gotta do this. For T'Pol, for the Cap'n, for Malcolm, for everyone. _Trip glanced over his shoulder at Malcolm, who nodded his support.

"Okay, here goes..." He placed his hands on the touchpads...

...and pain exploded behind his eyes.


	19. Wibbly Wobbly, Timey Whimey

Trip helps turns the tide against Future Guy and the Time Lord Victorious. Another version of the Doctor and Daniels reveal just who Future Guy might be. Team TARDIS is reunited, and Malcolm meets an unexpected visitor.

Quotes from various ENT episodes are in **bold**.

ENT: "Shuttlepod One", "Shockwave I and II", "First Flight", "The Expanse", "Similitude", "E2", "Home", "Affliction", "Divergence", "Terra Prime"

DW: "The Parting of the Ways", "Doomsday", "Utopia", "Human Nature", "The Family of Blood", "Time Crash" (Children in Need 2006, featuring the Fifth and Tenth Doctors),"The Last of the Time Lords"

**The Cricketer=Fifth Doctor** (Peter Davison). [I wanted to sneak him in there somewhere, as he's one of my favorite Doctors, not to mention Peter Davison is David Tennant's father-in-law)

* * *

**Time Relative to Enterprise (January 2156)**

**Zero Point of the Universe**

**December 31 2155/January 1 2156**

**(+/- 0 years, 0 months, 0 days)**

Whenever he flew the TARDIS, Trip focused on the immediate goal. She aided him in that purpose, but he remained himself, Charles Tucker the Third. He was aware of his own personality, his own hopes and desires, but the TARDIS was the catalyst. Their strengths meshed together into a seamless whole, and each individual made up for what the other lacked.

It was very much like a Vulcan marriage bond, in fact. Little wonder the TARDIS had picked Trip as her pilot, and not Travis or Jon. It was more than just physically manipulating the controls. It was a total fusion, body and soul. The TARDIS was intimately connected with Her Doctor, but Trip was a close second.

This ship, this Romulan/Gallifreyan behemoth, was its antithesis. It was an empty soul, taking what it needed and leaving chaos in its wake. The worst thing about it was its sheer power, the sheer inhuman power that didn't care about anything but its ultimate goal: domination.

_My God, it's one hell of a design job. _Trip saw it with different eyes, the chains of energy that flowed from the four control consoles in the engine room, all the way to the flight deck several stories above his head. Those chains linked the Time Lord Victorious, the Master, and Future Guy. It was a poisonous web that choked out any mental connections to anyone else.

The Tenth's Doctor's link to the TARDIS was fading fast. Trip traced it to a small object hanging out of the man's front pocket. _The pocket watch! It's something to do with the watch!_

There was a start of surprise from the Time Lord Victorious, a mental jolt that nearly kicked Trip back out to reality. At first, Trip thought the Tenth Doctor had detected his presence, but he heard without hearing...several voices at once:

_Doctor...the fob watch! Just like last time! You need to open the watch!_

_Doctor, come back to us! Please...I love you!_

_Oi, Spaceman! Get your skinny arse back here before I __**really **__do some damage to you!_

_I've waited a century for you to show up in Cardiff, remember? Don't make me wait another hundred years!_

The ship shuddered all around Trip, as it recognized its enemy. He heard Future Guy's roar of anger, and that rage kicked the ship into high gear. It slammed into Trip worse than a shot of adrenaline; his heart raced as the deck beneath his feet shifted slightly. The vibrations from the glowing columns shivered up his spine as the ship altered course.

Heading for a collision course for _Enterprise_. Future Guy was determined to alter every possible timeline, subjugate every possible universe under his heel. A temporal explosion of this proportion would be more than enough to do that...Future Guy had the power to survive it. The crew of the _Enterprise_ did not. Even Daniels had proved he could physically die. All incarnations of the Doctor, and his Companions, past and future...

_Hell no! I'm not gonna let this happen! _Desperation gave Trip the strength he needed. He poured every iota of thought into preventing this catastrophe. He thought about T'Pol, how she was his soulmate, his other half.

"**Why don't you just say it?"**

**"Say what?"**

**"That you want me to come back."**

**"I believe I did. I think your presence here would be extremely beneficial to our operations."**

**"No. That you want me back."**

**"I don't know what you mean."**

**"My mistake. See you around."**

**"Wait, Trip. I want you to come back."**

**"Then I'll think about it."**

**"Trip!"**

And she'd kissed him. It showed the depth of her love for him, more than words could.

_About Lorian, his son:_

"**It's the strangest thing. I look at you and I see my father. Right here, around the eyes. Now the ears, those are your mother's...wait a minute, you smiled."**

**"I wasn't raised with the same inhibitions most Vulcans have. My human side has allowed me to find a balance between emotion and logic. I've even been known to tell a joke on occasion."**

Lorian and his ship had survived the Kovalaans and had explored the stars in a different part of the galaxy. Trip knew that they'd meet again, sometime. If not here, then somewhere else.

_About Jonathan Archer, how they met during the NX-Project:_

"**If I had my own ship, I'd sign you up in a second."**

"**I'm gonna hold you to it."**

"**Thanks, Trip."**

Jon had kept his promise when he received command of NX-01. He'd made Trip the Chief Engineer on their voyage...and in the Expanse, Jon saved his life, several times.

And of course, Malcolm Reed, that time in Shuttlepod One, when he'd tried to shut himself in the airlock, to give Malcolm a fighting chance, and Malcolm had pointed the phase pistol at him:

"**Who the hell do you think you are?"**

"**Your Armory Officer, and perhaps your friend."**

**"Friends don't shoot each other!"**

**"I've invested far too much time trying to figure you out, Mister Tucker. I'm not about to accept that it was all for nothing."**

The memories came fast and furious and filled the void between him and the Gallifreyan ship. Good and bad, some when Trip had been actually present, and others where he hadn't. He saw the entire thing with Sim, and realized why neither Jon nor T'Pol talked about it. He saw Malcolm's deals with Harris during the Klingon Incident, and understood why Malcolm had kept that part of his past hidden. He remembered standing helpless as T'Pol married Koss, putting aside his own desires for the greater good...

Watched again as Baby Elizabeth took her last breath, his baby girl. His daughter...

Saw the Xindi death beam bear down on Florida and vaporizing everyone in its path, including Lizzie. She'd been at her home in Panama City, packing to join the rest of the family in Mississippi; if she'd been an hour or two sooner, she would have lived...

Felt that sickening sensation of a climb rope giving way, the slackening of the metal pieton and crampon; clawing at nothing but air. Trip experienced A.G. Robinson's last horrible seconds of life, as he fell, the icy wind biting at his skin, as the sheer cliff face of Mount McKinley whizzed past him...

Memories, experiences, good and bad, from many viewpoints and many lives. Was this what the TARDIS saw, what the Doctor saw, what _Daniels_ saw?

Was this what _Future Guy_ saw?

No wonder the man was insane, with all of time and space at his doorstep. The sense of invincibility that came with the knowledge. You could stop people from dying. You could erase the bad and just dwell on the good. You could heal the sick, bend people to your will, pick and choose the technology you wanted. Future Guy employed the Suliban, then discarded them once they served his purpose.

But even Future Guy wasn't omnipotent; certain people and events were fixed points in time, and couldn't be altered. Jonathan Archer and his Coalition, for one. Trip and his relationship with T'Pol. Malcolm's with Hoshi. A.G. Robinson and the NX-Project.

The Doctor and his TARDIS. And his Companions. Jack Harkness's Immortality. Rose Tyler's Parallel Universe. The Master. They were _meant to be_.

_Time can be changed. The Universe can be rewritten_. Future Guy wanted to change the immutable and in the process, he was destroying the fabric of space-time. In the end, no one would survive.

Trip felt another surge of energy through his hands. The opportunity was there for the taking. He could simply think, _Disappear. _Future Guy and his minions would all vanish, the universe would be saved. It would all be an easy fix, easier than a cranky Warp 5 engine...

_Where would you draw the line, Commander? Where would you stop? You know what happens with the best of intentions._

He recoiled as if slapped. There were others there with him, now. He felt T'Pol's steady presence, Jon's enthusiasm, Travis's optimism, Phlox's zest for life, Hoshi's warm empathy. Malcolm was there, too, an intensely private man, yet risked much for others.

The TARDIS has said that Trip could see the wonders of machines, and Malcolm, the wonders of the soul. She was more accurate than Trip gave her credit for._You are the mirrors for each other._

Trip felt temptation pull at him again, to strip Future Guy of his powers and appropriate them for himself. _It would be so easy_...

Then the TARDIS slapped him upside the head. Again.

_Bloody sodding idiot. Get your head screwed on straight. I'm not going to let you go after everything we've been through. _Her voice softened. _Trip. You know what is right._

Trip laughed aloud as he heard T'Pol's mental voice: _Thank you. _And the TARDIS's unspoken reply, the feeling shared by two women who loved the same man.

_Thank __**you, **__Darlin'. Both of you._ Trip gathered all of his will and thought a single word at that boiling maelstrom of anger and temptation.

_No._

Time and space paused for a fraction of a second, then obeyed the command.

* * *

The Big Bang didn't even compare to this.

There was no explosion, no lightshow, no debris. Things just stopped, then slowly dissolved into whiteness. It reminded Trip of T'Pol's meditation 'white space'. He caught a shadow out of the corner of his eye, but before he could react, that shadow gave a muted grunt and fell like a stone.

"So sorry about that. You all right?"

Trip blinked at the blond man that stood behind him. He wielded what looked like a flat wooden paddle in his hands, obviously the weapon used to knock his attacker unconscious. Trip peered at the woolen pullover, the Panama hat and the beige-striped slacks. It only emphasized how young he appeared. Trip guessed he was perhaps thirty, older than the Tweed-clothed Doctor, but not by much.

"Uh, yeah. Thanks. Lemme guess. You're the Doctor. Which one are you?"

The young man chuckled and tipped his hat in acknowledgement. "Let me see...if I'm reading the timestream correctly, that puts me as number Five. You must be the TARDIS's newest companion."

"Yeah, I'm Trip Tucker. Am I dead?"

"No, not dead. Not really. I think a lot of people would be cross with you if you were, actually." Five frowned at the slumped person on the ground, then at his paddle. "Oh, dear. I think I'm going to have to replace my cricket bat. He's put a crack right through the middle of it."

"You play cricket?" Trip suppressed a shudder. He never could understand the appeal in cricket, but of course, he'd never say that aloud to Malcolm.

Five's eyes crinkled in humor. "Ah, that's right, you Americans don't play, so you wouldn't know the uniform if you saw it." He sobered as he regarded the unconscious man. "Have a close look...I assume this is your friend, 'Future Guy'."

Trip's eyes widened as he stared down at the figure. He was no longer 'Admiral Tonek', but the man's features were still blurred and indistinct, as if someone had used a huge eraser and smudged his face. It shimmered and changed with every second. First, it was a young man; now it was a grandfatherly sage, and now it was a young woman.

"He's a shapeshifter?"

"Yes, you could say that, but he not only with physical space, but also in time. This is what he looks like, out of the normal space-time continuum." Five looked up at him. "He's...in between forms, so to speak, and not exactly rational. Not quite Time Lord, not quite...other, either."

"You mean he's...stuck where he is." Trip narrowed his eyes at the unconscious form of 'Future Guy'. "And he's gone a little nuts."

Five's mouth quirked upward in a manner eerily similar to the other Doctors whom Trip had seen. "I believe I just said that."

"Sorry." He took a deep breath and asked, "So now that we've got him, what're we gonna do with him?"

A second voice interjected, "Take him home, where he belongs, and where he won't cause any more trouble."

Trip nodded as another person stepped out of the whiteness. "Daniels."

Five inclined his head at the newcomer. "Hello, Jack. I see that you're none the worse for wear, considering all the chaos you had to arrange at such short notice."

Daniels bowed slightly at the unspoken criticism in the Doctor's tone. "I'm duly chastised, sir, and I promise I'll clean up after myself." He smiled at Trip. "It's good to see you again, Commander Tucker. I knew you and Lieutenant Reed would come through in the end."

Trip shook his head and said, "So that's it, then? We save the universe, you haul Future Guy away, and everything's all back the way it's supposed to be?"

The Time Agent had the good grace to look chagrined at the tone. "Ah, not exactly. I promised the Doctor here that I'd tie up all my loose ends. Well, as best as I can, anyway. Things have changed a little...but I think you'd approve of those changes."

"Really."

Daniels chuckled at Trip's skepticism. "Really. I can't really tell you what's in store for you in your future...that'd be spoiling the ending." His eyes softened as he put a hand on Future Guy's shoulder. "I can say that you, Jonathan Archer, Malcolm Reed and the rest of the _Enterprise_ crew...you're all destined for great things. Things that are possible...and a few that are impossible."

And with a nod of his head and a flash of light, Daniels and Future Guy disappeared from view. The Fifth Doctor sighed and murmured, "I do hope he's more careful in the future. He means well, Jack does, but things get complicated anyway."

"Yeah, no kiddin'." Trip sighed and said, "Well, I guess that means you're takin' me and Malcolm home."

Five laughed and pointed into the whiteness with his chin. "You're half right, Trip. The Doctor's taking you home, but it's not me. Your ride's over there."

Trip looked nearby to see a tall form standing in front of a familiar blue police box. Trip recognized the flyaway brown hair and the neatly-pressed suit. He looked just like the Emperor, the Time Lord Victorious, but the man's stance, his body language, his friendly smile...it was completely different. This was a completely different man, a transformed man.

Free of Future Guy's and the Master's control.

"Don't worry about the Master," Five said quietly, his heavy tone a contrast with his youthful demeanor. "He'll be taken care of in due time."

Trip breathed out a sigh he didn't know he'd been holding. He glanced down at the red Converse sneakers and broke out into a genuine grin.

_Suit-and-Sneakers. I finally get to meet you. _He cleared his throat and asked aloud, "Doctor? Number Ten?"

The man's smile had a touch of craziness, much like the one of his immediate predecessor, Number Nine. Yet there was a deep sorrow within his eyes that belied the easy cheer. He knew what had happened to him and was struggling to deal with it, but his voice betrayed none of those dark shadows.

"Yes, I'm the Doctor. Just the Doctor is fine...you can drop the number."

"Okay, just the Doctor, then." Trip paused as he saw Ten nod at a point behind him. He turned to see Five nod back, shoulder his cricket bat, and slowly vanish from view, like the Cheshire Cat. Trip turned back to Ten, whose smile softened at the gaze.

"You're not wearing your glasses."

The Doctor laughed, a booming laugh that was unexpected from such a tall, skinny fellow. "The brainy specs? I only wear those when I need to look clever. Blame Five; he started me doing it."

"Ah, I get it." Trip relaxed at the man's charm; he could see hints of both Five and Nine in the dark chestnut eyes, despite the obvious physical differences. Strangely enough, he had the feeling that this Doctor was a lot older than he looked, and he still carried a heavy burden on his shoulders.

He seemed to detect Trip's unease, and the smile broadened. "Hello, Trip. I'm glad to finally meet you properly...I reckon you've had a long day. Mostly my fault, sorry about that."

"It's okay. We all have long days," Trip joked. "I guess we saved the universe, huh?"

"Well, mostly."

"Mostly?"

This time, the Doctor's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Well, yeah, wibbly wobbly, timey-whimey stuff. Speaking of...we've got those loose ends to tie up." The Doctor extended a hand. "C'mon. You've got some people who wanna see you."

Trip nodded and put his hand into the Doctor's. The Doctor cocked his head, winked, then pulled him into the TARDIS. Warmth wrapped around them, a sense of homecoming. The column above the central console glowed a soft blue and polished metal sparkled in the lights. Trip stopped just off the ramp, his eyes widening.

The control room was crowded with people. A red-haired woman squealed in joy, ran towards them and threw her arms around Trip. "Cowboy! You think we were gonna just jet off into the sunset without sayin' anythin'?"

Trip nearly passed out from lack of oxygen, but managed to mouth, "Uh...can't breathe."

Donna Noble let him go, but put her hands on his shoulders in a motherly manner and smiled. "Told y'that you can do it, didn't I."

"Yeah," he coughed, "you did."

Jack Harkness slapped him on the back in welcome. "Good to see you in one piece. Oh, and thanks."

Trip found himself blushing again under Jack's smile. _How the hell does he manage to do that?_

Donna elbowed Jack and snarked, "Oi, stop it. He's got a girlfriend, remember?"

"The more the merrier," Jack snarked back. "Unless you want to join?"

Donna elbowed him again, harder this time, and Jack winced. The Doctor hid a smile as he leaned against the console next to Rose Tyler. She reached over and squeezed his hand. Trip nearly started at the expression on her face: one of love lost, and now returned.

_Wait, I thought...that's the same look she had when she saw Nine. Or am I just seeing things? _Trip sighed and shook his head. He guessed Nine wasn't around anymore, so Rose had taken up with Ten when he had assumed the Doctor-ship, whatever that entailed. A part of Trip was glad that Rose had found someone else in the universe to love.

Malcolm leaned on the far railing, next to Martha Jones. He smirked at Jack Harkness and commented, "You like living at the edge of danger, Captain Harkness. Sir. "

Jack turned his brilliant smile on him. "It's how I've always lived, Lieutenant. You've probably guessed that by now."

Malcolm's smirk widened a fraction. "There were a few clues, yes."

Trip rolled his eyes at the by-play between those two and decided he didn't want to know. "Geez, Jack. By the way, what are you thankin' me for?"

"You gave us the final piece of the puzzle in freeing the Doctor." At Trip's quizzical look, Jack clarified, "The fob watch."

The British term threw him off for a few seconds, then he understood. "The pocket watch with the chain?"

Martha Jones nodded from her place beside Malcolm. "There was a time when the Doctor had to escape from a Family of Blood...beings who wanted to kill him. He used something called a Chameleon Arch to hide from them. It...changed the Doctor, made him a Human. He really believed he was a Human. As a failsafe, he put his real consciousness, his real identity into a perception filter in the form of a pocket watch."

Trip suddenly understood. "So when you opened that pocket watch...you remembered who you really were. It was a matter of just reminding you."

The Doctor winced again and shot Martha a look of apology. "'Reminding' me wasn't a pleasant experience. The Master and...Future Guy interfered with my timestream, and I knew what could happen to me. I needed a way for my Companions-" He smiled at Jack, Rose, Martha and Donna, "to bring me back."

Donna grinned. "You and Bomb Boy count in that select few, now."

"'Bomb Boy?'" Malcolm huffed.

"You have to admit, it's a pretty accurate description of you, Malcolm," Trip said with a laugh. "Donna gives nicknames to everyone."

Malcolm only raised an eyebrow at the redhead, who only stared back with a hint of challenge in her eyes. Martha murmured in a low voice, "Maybe it's good they aren't the Doctor's Companions at the same time. They'd drive each other batty."

"I'd like to see Donna give him a run for his money," Trip answered in the same tone. Martha rolled her eyes, but grinned at the words.

The Doctor clapped his hands, startling everyone. "So...one brief stop before we head back to the mid 22nd century...the early 23rd century, around 2190 or so."

Malcolm frowned. "Why are we going to 2190?"

The Doctor tapped a few buttons on the console, then jerked his head at Malcolm. "Move a couple of steps to your right, Malcolm. Over there."

"What?" He traded mystified looks with Trip, but did as the Doctor asked.

"Good. A few minor adjustment to the TARDIS's shield harmonics and-"

There was a brief shimmer of the transporter effect, then a woman stood in the exact same place where Malcolm was only moments earlier. She was a fraction of an inch shorter than Malcolm, with long, dark hair nearly braided and pinned up into a bun. Her golden shirt and black pants looked like some sort of uniform, but Trip couldn't place it.

_I know her from somewhere. _Even as Trip had the thought, the woman regarded him from head to toe with a smirk. His heart froze as he met a familiar set of dark brown eyes. Trip glanced back at the Doctor, who leaned against the console with a knowing look on his face.

"He's never met her, but his heart knows who she is," he murmured to Trip. "You would always know your own flesh and blood."

Trip only nodded. He had known Baby Elizabeth was his and T'Pol's child at the first minute he'd seen her. Granted, Elizabeth hadn't been conceived the 'normal' way, but she had been much Trip's child as if she'd had been. Trip had felt an instant connection with the child. He had known.

Malcolm looked like he was about to faint, but Donna and Martha put steadying hands on his shoulder. "Easy, Bomb Boy," Donna murmured. "Take it easy."

"I'll be fine, Donna." He took a deep breath and looked at the visitor again. "My God, you're the very image of your mother."

She smiled—Hoshi's smile—and shook her head slightly. "I may look like her, but everyone tells me I act more like you." Her English accent was a softer version of Malcolm's. She held out a hand and Malcolm accepted it within his own. The almond-shaped eyes softened as she said, "I'm Captain Elizabeth Yoshiko Reed,of the Earth Coalition Ship _Trafalgar_."


	20. Old Endings, New Beginnings

Trip has an extended chat with the Doctor while Malcolm spends time with his daughter. The two men return to the Enterprise, in their own time, and decide to start the new year, 2156, off right.

Spoilers: ENT: "Carbon Creek"

DW: "The Doctor's Daughter", "The Last of the Time Lords"

This is the final chapter of this adventure...though Time goes on. Will there be a sequel? Ssshhh...SPOILERS!

* * *

**Relative Time to Enterprise (January 2156)**

**Infinity (∞) within the TARDIS**

Trip spent several hours talking with the Doctor and found him quite the conversationalist. They chatted about all subjects, including technology, temporal physics and the TARDIS. The Doctor seemed both amused and chagrined that Trip and the TARDIS were so close, but he confirmed the reason why She had chosen Trip, out of all the _Enterprise_ crew, to be her pilot.

"You're a unique person, Trip. Vulcans and Gallifreyans are similar in one way...once we find the 'right person', there's a mental bond that links them together. You already have one with T'Pol, one that defies all usual understanding." The Doctor smiled as he lounged in one of the bucket seats. It was one of the few times that Trip actually saw him relaxing since they'd started 'the grand tour of the universe' several relative days before.

"You and the TARDIS have a special bond, too. She showed me that...I kinda envy it."

"Like I said, similar to T'Pol. You know, I met her second foremother, T'Mir, out by Carbon Creek. Charming woman; T'Pol's very much like her. And Doctor Mestral...he's definitely a character."

Trip gazed at him and tried not to betray his shock. "You've actually met them?"

"Briefly, yeah." The Doctor grinned and shrugged. "How do you think Mestral managed to stay hidden for so long? A Vulcan among Humans? Maggie knew, and she kept the secret."

"You mean, Mestral had a perception filter, so everyone would think he was Human too?"

"He used it only when he was in public. Mestral never forgot where he came from...and he always remembered. Like I said, he was a character." The Doctor chuckled and shook his head. "Martha and I also met the great Surak himself. Did Martha ever tell you the story about how we nearly got done in by one of those lirpa thingies? Nasty weapons, those. Not even elegant in design...a product of the times."

"Martha mentioned the story, but didn't go into any details."

"Aw...I gotta tell you that one. Martha Jones, the brilliant woman, actually saved the day there. And did you know that Surak actually had a pet sehlat that had more empathy than a Deltan and a Betazoid together-"

"A who? What?"

"Ah, people you haven't met yet, but you will, eventually. Anyway, the sehlat sniffed out the TARDIS, and Surak knocked on the door-" The Doctor retold the story in that lightning-fast, rambling manner. Trip was now used to his strange style and followed the narrative relatively easily.

Laughter floated from the spiral staircase, and Trip glanced at the other end of the control room. To Malcolm's embarrassment, Elizabeth Reed and Donna Noble got along like a house on fire. The Doctor paused in his story as outraged voices echoed from the second floor of the TARDIS.

"I wonder how much Risa has changed in forty years. What do you say to a short detour on the way home, Captain Reed?"

"Be careful, Captain Harkness. This is my daughter you're propositioning to."

"He's harmless, Dad. You taught me everything I know about self-defense. I can handle him if he gets too obnoxious."

"Jack, obnoxious? Oi, that's like saying Earth's skies are blue, LisBeth, my dear. Though if he does get too rowdy, I'll set him straight after your father gets a whack at him first."

"Thank you for the moral support, Donna."

"Anytime, Bomb Boy. We're on the same side, you know. I can see where your girl gets her personality from. How her mother managed to survive the two of you with her sanity intact, I have no idea..."

LisBeth laughed, and Trip could imagine the expression on Malcolm's face. "Mom's a patient woman, Donna."

"I suppose she's gotta be-"

Jack and LisBeth laughed, while Malcolm's snort of exasperation could be heard all over the TARDIS. Trip exchanged grins with the Doctor, and murmured, "Thank you, for Malcolm's sake."

"I think he deserves to know what kind of brilliant woman his daughter has become. Will become." A shadow briefly passed over his face, one that lifted just as quickly. "Timey-whimey and all that."

"Yeah." Trip leaned against the edge of the TARDIS console with his arms crossed. "Got a question for you-"

"I hope I have an answer."

"When Malcolm and I get back to our time, to our _Enterprise_...will we forget all this? You know, so we don't screw up our timeline?"

The Doctor chuckled and shook his head in response. "Time traveling changes how you see things, Trip. You and Malcolm—and your crew—were already time travelers, but now the two of you see things with new eyes. No, once you're a Companion, you remember...with a couple of important exceptions."

"Exceptions?" Trip asked, as the Doctor's face darkened again. "Like what?"

"It hasn't happened yet, so I'd rather not say." A quirky smile passed over his face. "Just because you're aware of other possibilities doesn't necessarily mean those particular ones will happen to you. Life has to be lived, Trip. It's a grand adventure, and it still holds surprises for everyone."

"Infinite possibilities?"

"Yeah. Surak thought it was a brilliant concept too."

"So...no advance previews?"

"Nope." The Doctor smirked. "Spoilers."

"Had to ask anyway. Sorry."

"Naw, that's all right...it's only natural to be curious. Even when you have all of Time and Space as your backyard, there's always the one thing that crops up that you've never expected to see. It's only when it all becomes boring and routine that it becomes a problem. Having Companions keeps me from getting too jaded about the same-old."

Trip nodded in understanding. "Because, like you said, they see it with new eyes."

"Yes, exactly!" The Doctor grinned widely and got up from the bucket seat. "And speaking of new eyes...I do hope you and Malcolm realize the opportunities that lie ahead of you, especially concerning a certain Vulcan and a certain communications officer."

"Yeah, I think we do."

"Good." He winked and said, "Well, as much as I hate to say it, you two need to get back to _Enterprise_. Some things are...ahem...time-sensitive, so to speak."

"Time-sensitive?" Trip was confused until the Doctor waggled his eyebrows in the direction of the ceiling. Trip smirked and added, "Ah, gotcha."

As if summoned, Jack, Donna and LisBeth trooped down the spiral staircase. Donna and LisBeth were still chattering and giggling among themselves, Jack was teasing Malcolm about his daughter dating 'a Vulcan man with blond hair'. Poor Malcolm didn't look amused.

"Dad, for God's sake, by my point in time, I'm almost forty years old. I'm not sixteen anymore."

"You're not sixteen, six years, or six weeks old in my timeline. I rather think I'm entitled."

Donna rolled her eyes. "Lay off, Bomb Boy. She's a grown woman."

The Doctor laughed and shook his head. "If you could hear yourself, Malcolm...you've gone domestic."

Malcolm flushed crimson, but then he started laughing. Trip's smirk widened and he commented, "When this happens in 'real life', I'm gonna remind you of this moment."

"I'm sure you will, Mister Tucker, and we two will be the only ones to get the humor of it."

Rose Tyler and Martha Jones came into the Control Room from the spiral staircase. They both heard Trip's comment and laughed along with the rest of them. Rose commented, "That's somethin' only Companions can understand, y'know."

"Yeah." Trip heard the TARDIS's voice in his head. _We're here. The thirty-first of December, 2155, eleven fifty nine and thirty seconds, exactly._

"Eleven fifty-nine and thirty seconds? We were still in the Mess Hall, a few hours before we discovered the TARDIS," Malcolm said. Trip swore there was a glint of understanding in his eyes.

_Yes, Malcolm._

Trip took a deep breath and smiled at everyone. "Well, I guess this is it."

"It's 'see you later', not 'goodbye', Trip." Rose hugged him. "You'll see us again around the universe."

"See you later, Rose." He hugged her back, then accepted hugs from Martha and Donna, and a firm handshake from Jack. LisBeth also hugged him and let him go with a wink.

"I'll see you sooner than you think, Uncle Trip," she murmured.

He grinned; it was the first time he'd heard her call him that. "'Kay, Squirt."

Malcolm put aside British propriety and returned LisBeth's kiss on the cheek. "See you later, Dad," she said. "Tell Mum I said hello...later."

"I will." Malcolm squeezed her shoulder. "And you behave yourself when I'm not around."

She winked again. "I will."

Malcolm gave Trip a suspicious look. "I know where she picked that up, 'Uncle Trip'."

Trip shrugged comically and smiled at her. The Doctor tapped the controls, then nodded at the double doors. "You'll step right back into the Mess Hall at that exact moment."

"Thanks, Doc." Trip felt the TARDIS's warmth one last time and he patted the console. "Okay, let's go."

Malcolm joined him at the doors and together, they pulled them open and stepped into their own time.

At last.

**Enterprise NX-01**

**December 31, 2155/January 1, 2156**

"Commander Tucker! Lieutenant Reed! Where have you two been? Thirty seconds!" Travis shouted from across the room. He sat at a table with Liz Cutler, Ethan Navokovich and Michael Rostov. The four of them looked more than a little buzzed from Chef's 'special libations'.

Trip exchanged a broad grin with Malcolm, who only shrugged and joined Hoshi at a table near the door. Trip glanced back at Travis and shouted back, "Hey, we're here now! Wouldn't miss it for the world!"

Captain Archer and Commander T'Pol stood by the punch bowl. She raised an eyebrow at Trip and he went over to join them there. "Cap'n. T'Pol. Not long till the New Year."

Jon raised his cup of spirits. "To a new year to come."

"To new adventures." Trip grabbed one of the remaining cups from the table and returned the salute. "Got any resolutions, Cap'n?"

"One or two. Whether or not I'll actually keep them this time...we'll see." Jon smiled and inclined his head at T'Pol, who seemed fascinated by the goings-on in the Mess Hall. "By the way, T'Pol had a question for you, concerning tradition."

"Tradition?" Trip glanced over at her as she gave him his full attention. "I'll answer it if I can."

T'Pol nodded; Trip nearly started at the mischievous glint in her eyes, but it was gone before he could be sure. "Yes...in some cultures, individuals—and couples—celebrate the new year in certain manners."

"Uh, yeah. How do Vulcans do it?"

She raised an eyebrow at him before replying, "Some spend the final moments of the old year in deep meditation, others consider it merely a transition from one minute to the next. Bonded couples find it an ideal time to renew their psychic connection."

Trip smirked. "How?"

She raised two fingers of her right hand and he matched it with the corresponding fingers on his hand. The moment their skin touched, he felt a definite jolt between them. His eyes widened as he felt a wave flow into him, warming him from the top of his head to the tips of his toes.

"Three...two...one...Happy New Year!" The Mess Hall erupted into loud noise as the crew blew horns and threw streamers. Captain Archer exchanged toasts with Doctor Phlox and Travis, and other people broke into a drunken rendition of 'Auld Lang Syne."

Trip didn't see or hear any of them. His gaze was locked on T'Pol's as the chaos went on around them, but he was only aware of her presence in his mind.

_I'll be damned. Is this the equivalent of a Vulcan kiss at midnight?_

Her eyes softened as she answered, _I suppose you might consider it that. There are other ways that bonded couples indulge in celebration._

_I bet I know how. C'mon, no one's gonna notice if we slip out quietly._

_I concur._

Trip wasn't quite right; he saw Jon's knowing look as they left the Mess Hall. As they approached Deck B, Trip heard low voices and a woman's giggle. He put out a hand to stop T'Pol from rounding the corner.

"Hang on a minute," he whispered.

Cautiously, he craned his neck around the corner...and stared at the sight of Malcolm and Hoshi in front of Malcolm's quarters, both locked in a passionate kiss. The Armory Officer broke away only long enough to hit the door control. The door slid open, Hoshi literally kiss-walked him inside, and the door slid shut after them.

"I see that Mister Reed has also chosen to take advantage of certain opportunities."

Trip suppressed a snort of laughter. He remembered the Doctor's words: _"Some things are...ahem...time-sensitive, so to speak." _It was going to be a busy year for certain people, that was for sure.

"About damn time, if you ask me." Trip smiled and inclined his head towards his own quarters. "And I'm gonna do the same. As long as I don't hear any objections, that is."

She raised an eyebrow and said, "It is illogical to object, Trip."

"Good." He hit the door control and ushered T'Pol inside.

Yes, it was going to be a very good New Year.


End file.
